In  the  Three  Zones 


WORKS   OF   FICTION 

BY 

F.  J.  STIMSON 

(/.  S.  of  Dale) 

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In  the  Three 
Zones  ¥  $  ¥  ¥ 
By  F.  J.  Stimson  (J.S.of  Dale) 


Dr.    Materialismus.       His    Hypothesis 
Worked  Out 


An  Alabama  Courtship.     Its  Simplicities 
and  its  Complexities 


Los  Caraquefios.  Being  the  Life  History 
of  Don  Sebastian  Marques  del  Torre  and 
of  Dolores,  his  wife,  Condesa  de  Luna 


Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
New  York,  1893    *  * 


Copyright,  1893,  by 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons 


TROW  DIRECTORY 
ND    BOOKBINDING  COMPAK 
NEW  YORK 


DR.   MATERIALISMUS 

HIS    HYPOTHESIS    WORKED    OUT 


M290287 


I  SHOULD  like  some  time  to  tell  how 
Tetherby  came  to  his  end  ;  he,  too,  was  a 
victim  of  materialism,  as  his  father  had  been 
before  him ;  but  when  he  died,  he  left  this 
story,  addressed  among  his  papers  to  me ; 
and  I  am  sure  he  meant  that  all  the  world 
(or  such  part  of  it  as  cares  to  think)  should 
know  it.  He  had  told  it,  or  partly  told  it,  to 
us  before  ;  in  fragments,  in  suggestions,  in 
those  midnight  talks  that  earnest  young  men 
still  have  in  college,  or  had,  in  1870. 

Tetlierby  came  from  that  strange,  cold, 
Maine  coast,  washed  in  its  fjords  and 
beaches  by  a  clear,  cold  sea,  which  brings  it 
fogs  of  winter  but  never  haze  of  summer ; 
where  men  eat  little,  think  much,  drink  only 
water,  and  yet  live  intense  lives  ;  where  the 
village  people,  in  their  long  winters  away 
from  the  world,  in  an  age  of  revivals  had 
their  waves  of  atheism,  and  would  transform, 
in  those  days,  their  pine  meeting-houses  into 
Shakspere  clubs,  and  logically  make  a  cult  of 


4  DR.   MATERIALISMUS 

infidelity ;  now,  with  railways,  I  suppose  all 
that  has  ceased ;  they  read  Shakspere  as 
little  as  the  scriptures,  and  the  Sunday  news 
paper  replaces  both.  Such  a  story — such  an 
imagination — as  Tetherby's,  could  not  happen 
now — perhaps.  But  they  take  life  earnestly 
in  that  remote,  ardent  province ;  they  think 
coldly ;  and,  when  you  least  expect  it,  there 
comes  in  their  lives,  so  hard  and  sharp  and 
practical,  a  burst  of  passion. 

He  came  to  Newbridge  to  study  law,  and 
soon  developed  a  strange  faculty  for  debate. 
The  first  peculiarity  was  his  name — which 
first  appeared  and  was  always  spelled,  C.  S. 
J.  J.  Tetherby  in  the  catalogue,  despite  the 
practice,  which  was  to  spell  one's  name  in 
full.  Of  course,  speculation  was  rife  as  to  the 
meaning  of  this  portentous  array  of  initials  ; 
and  soon,  after  his  way  of  talk  was  known, 
arose  a  popular  belief  that  they  stood  for 
nothing  less  than  Charles  Stuart  Jean  Jacques. 
Nothing  less  would  justify  the  intense  lean 
ing  of  his  mind,  radical  as  it  was,  for  all  that 
was  mystical,  ideal,  old.  But  afterwards  we 
learned  that  he  had  been  so  named  by  his 
curious  father,  Colonel  Sir  John  Jones,  af 
ter  a  supposed  loyalist  ancestor,  who  had 


DR.  MATERIALISMUS  5 

flourished  in  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  and 
had  gone  to  Maine  to  get  away  from  it ; 
Tetherby's  father  being  evidently  under  the 
impression  that  the  two  titles  formed  a  com 
ponent  part  of  the  ancestor's  identity. 

Rousseau  Tetherby,  as  he  continued  to  be 
called,  was  a  tall,  thin,  broad-shouldered  fel 
low,  of  great  muscular  strength  and  yet  with 
feeble  health,  given  to  hallucinations  and 
morbid  imaginations  which  he  would  recount 
to  you  in  that  deep  monotone  of  twang  that 
seemed  only  fit  to  sell  a  horse  in.  The  boys 
made  fun  of  Tetherby  ;  he  bore  it  with  a 
splendid  smile  and  a  twinkle  in  his  ice-blue 
eye,  until  one  day  it  went  too  far,  and  then  he 
tackled  the  last  offender  and  chucked  him  off 
the  boat-house  float  into  the  river.  He  w7ould 
have  rowed  upon  the  university  crew,  but  that 
his  digestion  gave  out ;  strong  as  he  was  in 
mind  and  body,  nothing,  that  went  for  the  nu 
trition  and  fostering  of  life,  was  well  with  him. 
Such  men  as  he  are  repellent  to  the  sane, 
and  are  willed  by  the  world  to  die  alone. 

Some  one  on  that  night,  I  remember,  had 
said  something  derogatory  about  Goethe's 
theory  of  colors.  A  dry  subject,  an  abstruse 


6  DR.  MATEBIAUSX 

subject,  a  useless  subject  —  as  one  might 
think— but  it  loosed  Tetherby  to  sadden 
fury.  He  made  a  Tehement  defence  of  the 
great  poet-philosopher  against  the  dry,  bar 
ren  mathematics  of  the  Newtonian  science. 

"Do  you  cipherers  think  all  that  is  is  re 
ducible  to  numbers?  to  so  many  beats  per 
aecond,  like  your  own  dry  hearts?  Sound 
may  be  nothing  but  a  quicker  rattle — is  it 
but  a  rattle,  the  music  in  your  souls?  If 
tight  is  but  the  impact  of  more  rapid  mole 
cules,  does  MAX  bring  nothing  else,  when  he 
worships  the  glory  of  the  dawn?  You  say, 
tones  are  a  few  thousand  beats  per  second, 
and  colors  a  lew  billion  beats  per  second — 
what  becomes  of  all  the  numbers  left  be 
tween?  If  colored  lights  count  all  these 
biQioiis,  up  from  red  to  Tiolet,  and  white 
light  is  the  sum  of  all  the  colors,  what  can 
be  its  number  but  infinity?  But  is  a  white 
tight  GOD  ?  Or  would  you  cipherers  make 
of  God  a  cipher  ?  Smoke  looks  yellow  *g»™t 
the  sky,  and  blue  against  the  forest — but  how 
can  its  number  change  ?  You,  who  make  all 
to  a  number,  as  governments  do  to  convicts 
in  a  prison!  I  tell  you,  this  rage  for  ma 
chinery  win  bear  Dead  Sea  fruit.  You  con- 


DS,   XATERIALJSXU8  1 

foond  man's  highest  emotions  with  the  tick 
ling  of  the  gray  matter  in  his  brain;  tint 
way  lies  death  and  suicide  of  the  soul  - 

We  staled  ;  we  thought  he  had  gone  crazy. 

"Goethe  and  Dante  still  know  more  abort 
this  universe  than  any  cipherer"  be  said, 
more  calmly.  And  then  he  told  us  this 
story;  we  fancied  it  a  nightmare,  or  a  morbid 
dream  ;  but  earnestly  he  told  it,  and  slowly, 
sorely,  he  won  our  hearts  at  least  to  some  be 
lieving  in  the  terror  of  the  tale. 

When  he  was  through,  we  parted,  with  lew 
words,  thinking  poor  Tetherby  mad.  Bat 
when  he  died  it  was  found  «n«ng  his  papers, 
addressed  to  me.  Materialism  had  conquered 
him,  but  not  subdued  him;  "say  not  the 
struggle  naught  availed  him  ""  though  he  left 
but  this  one  tract  behind.  It  is  only  as  a 
sermon  that  it  needs  preserving,  though  the 
story  of  poor  Ahhea  Hardy  was,  I  believe,  in 
all  essentials  true. 


born  and  lived,  until  I  came  to  thi* 
university,  in  a  small  town  in  Maine.  My 
father  was  a  graduate  of  B  -  College,  and 
had  never  wholly  dissolved  his 
with  that  place;  probably  because  he 


8  DR.   MATERIALISMS 

there  not  unfavorably  known  to  more  ac 
quaintances,  and  better  people,  than  he  else 
where  found.  The  town  is  one  of  those 
gentle  -  mannered,  ferocious  -  minded,  white 
wooden  villages,  common  to  Maine  ;  with 
two  churches,  a  brick  town-hall,  a  stucco  ly- 
ceum,  a  narrow  railway  station,  and  a  spa 
cious  burying-ground.  It  is  divided  into 
two  classes  of  society:  one  which  institutes 
church  -  sociables,  church  -  dances,  church- 
sleighing  parties  ;  which  twice  a  week,  and 
critically,  listens  to  a  long  and  ultra-Protes 
tant,  almost  mundane,  essay-sermon ;  and 
which  comes  to  town  with,  and  takes  social 
position  from,  pastoral  letters  of  introduction, 
that  are  dated  in  other  places  and  exhibited 
like  marriage  certificates.  I  have  known  the 
husbands  at  times  get  their  business  employ 
ments  on  the  strength  of  such  encyclicals 
(but  the  ventures  of  these  were  not  rarely  at 
tended  with  financial  disaster,  as  passports 
only  hinder  honest  travellers) ;  the  other 
class  falling  rather  into  Shakespeare  clubs, 
intensely  free-thinking,  but  calling  Sabbath 
Sunday,  and  pretending  to  the  slightly  higher 
social  position  of  the  two.  This  is  Maine,  as 
I  knew  it ;  it  may  have  changed  since.  Both 


DR.  MATERIALISMUS  9 

classes  were  in  general  Prohibitionists,  but 
the  latter  had  wine  to  drink  at  home. 

In  this  town  were  many  girls  with  pretty 
faces  ;  there,  under  that  cold,  concise  sky  of 
the  North,  they  grew  up.;  their  intellects 
preternaturally  acute,  their  nervous  systems 
strung  to  breaking  pitch,  their  physical 
growth  so  backward  that  at  twenty  their 
figures  would  be  flat.  "We  were  intimate 
with  them  in  a  mental  fellowship.  Not  that 
we  boys  of  twenty  did  not  have  our  prefer 
ences,  but  they  were  preferences  of  mere 
companionship ;  so  that  the  magnanimous 
confidence  of  English  America  was  justified ; 
and  anyone  of  us  could  be  alone  with  her 
he  preferred  from  morn  to  midnight,  if  he 
chose,  and  no  one  be  the  wiser  or  the  worse. 

But  there  was  one  exceptional  girl  in  B , 

Althea  Hardy.  Her  father  was  a  rich  ship 
builder  ;  and  his  father,  a  sea-captain,  had 
married  her  grandmother  in  Catania,  island 
of  Sicily.  With  Althea  Hardy,  I  think,  I  was 
in  love. 

In  the  winter  of  my  second  year  at  college 
there  came  to  town  a  certain  Dr.  Materialis- 
mus — a  German  professor,  scientist,  socialist 
— ostensibly  seeking  employment  as  a  Ger- 


10  DR.  MATERIALISMUS 

man  instructor  at  the  college  ;  practising  hyp 
notism,  magnetism,  mesmerism,  and  mysti 
cism  ;  giving  lectures  on  Hegel,  believing  in 
Hartinann,  and  in  the  indestructibility  of 
matter  aud  the  destructibility  of  the  soul ; 
and  his  soul  was  a  damned  one,  and  he  cared 
not  for  the  loss  of  it. 

Not  that  I  knew  this,  then  ;  I  also  was  fas 
cinated  by  him,  I  suppose.  There  was  some 
thing  so  bold  about  his  intellectuality,  that 
excited  my  admiration.  Althea  and  I  used 
to  dispute  about  it ;  she  said  she  did  not  like 
the  man.  In  my  enthusiasm,  I  raved  to  her 
of  him  ;  and  then,  I  suppose,  I  talked  to  him 
of  her  more  than  I  should  have  done.  Mind 
you,  I  had  no  thought  of  marriage  then ;  nor, 
of  course,  of  love.  Althea  was  my  most  in 
timate  friend — as  a  boy  might  have  been. 
Sex  differences  were  fused  in  the  clear  flame 

of  the  intellect.  And  B College  itself 

was  a  co-educational  institution. 

The  first  time  they  met  was  at  a  coasting 
party  ;  on  a  night  of  glittering  cold,  when  the 
sky  was  dusty  azure  and  the  stars  burned 
like  blue  fires.  I  had  a  double-runner,  with 
Althea ;  and  I  asked  the  professor  to  come 
with  us,  as  he  was  unused  to  the  sport,  and  I 


DR.  MATERIALISMU8  11 

feared  lest  he  should  be  laughed  at.  I,  of 
course,  sat  in  front  and  steered  the  sled ; 
then  came  Althea ;  then  he ;  and  it  was  his 
duty  to  steady  her,  his  hands  upon  her 
waist. 

We  went  down  three  times  with  no  word 
spoken.  The  girls  upon  the  other  sleds 
Avould  cry  with  exultation  as  they  sped  down 
the  long  hill ;  but  Althea  was  silent.  On  the 
long  walk  up — it  was  nearly  a  mile — the  pro 
fessor  and  I  talked ;  but  I  remember  only 
one  thing  he  said.  Pointing  to  a  singularly 
red  star,  he  told  us  that  two  worlds  were 
burning  there,  with  people  in  them  ;  they 
had  lately  rushed  together,  and,  from  planets, 
had  become  one  burning  sun.  I  asked  him 
how  he  knew ;  it  was  all  chemistry,  he  said. 
Althea  said,  how  terrible  it  was  to  think  of 
such  a  day  of  judgment  on  that  quiet  night ; 
and  he  laughed  a  little,  in  his  silent  way,  and 
said  she  was  rather  too  late  with  her  pity, 
for  it  had  all  happened  some  eighty  years 
ago.  "  I  don't  see  that  you  cry  for  Marie 
Antoinette,"  he  said ;  "but  that  red  ray  you 
see  left  the  star  in  1789." 

We  left  Althea  at  her  home,  and  the  pro 
fessor  asked  me  down  to  his.  He  lived  in  a 


12  DR.  MATERIALISMUS 

strange  place  ;  the  upper  floor  of  a  ware 
house,  upon  a  business  street,  low  down  in 
the  town,  above  the  Kennebec.  He  told  me 
that  he  had  hired  it  for  the  power  ;  and  I  re 
membered  to  have  noticed  there  a  sign  "  To 
Let — One  Floor,  with  Power."  And  sure 
enough,  below  the  loud  rush  of  the  river,  and 
the  crushing  noise  made  by  the  cakes  of  ice 
that  passed  over  the  falls,  was  a  pulsing 
tremor  in  the  house,  more  striking  than  a 
noise  ;  and  in  the  loft  of  his  strange  apart 
ment  rushed  an  endless  band  of  leather, 
swift  and  silent.  "  It's  furnished  by  the 
river,"  he  said,  "  and  not  by  steam.  I 
thought  it  might  be  useful  for  some  physical 
experiments." 

The  upper  floor,  which  the  doctor  had 
rented,  consisted  mainly  of  a  long  loft  for 
manufacturing,  and  a  square  room  beyond  it, 
formerly  the  counting-room.  We  had  passed 
through  the  loft  first  (through  which  ran  the 
spinning  leather  band),  and  I  had  noticed  a 
forest  of  glass  rods  along  the  wall,  but  massed 
together  like  the  pipes  of  an  organ,  and  op 
posite  them  a  row  of  steel  bars  like  levers. 
"  A  mere  physical  experiment,"  said  the  doc 
tor,  as  we  sank  into  couches  covered  with 


DR.  MATERIALISHUS  13 

white  fur,  in  his  inner  apartment.  Strangely 
disguised,  the  room  in  the  old  factory  loft, 
hung  with  silk  and  furs,  glittering  with  glass 
and  gilding ;  there  was  no  mirror,  however, 
but,  in  front  of  me,  one  large  picture.  It 
represented  a  fainting  anchorite,  wan  and 
yellow  beneath  his  single  sheepskin  cloak,  his 
eyes  closing,  the  crucifix  he  was  bearing  just 
fallen  in  the  desert  sand ;  supporting  him, 
the  arms  of  a  beautiful  woman,  roseate  with 
perfect  health,  with  laughing,  red  lips,  and 
bold  eyes  resting  on  his  wearied  lids.  I 
never  had  seen  such  a  room ;  it  realized 
what  I  had  fancied  of  those  sensuous,  evil 
Trianoiis  of  the  older  and  corrupt  world. 
And  yet  I  looked  upon  this  picture ;  and  as 
I  looked,  some  tremor  in  the  air,  some  evil 
influence  in  that  place,  dissolved  all  my  in 
tellect  in  wild  desire. 

"  You  admire  the  picture?  "  said  Material- 
ismus.  "  I  painted  it ;  she  was  my  model." 
I  am  conscious  to-day  that  I  looked  at  him 
with  a  jealous  envy,  like  some  hungry  beast. 
I  had  never  seen  such  a  woman.  He  laughed 
silently,  and  going  to  the  wall  touched  what 
I  supposed  to  be  a  bell.  Suddenly  my  feel 
ings  changed. 


14  D1L  MATERIALISMUS 

11  Your  Altliea  Hardy,"  went  on  the  doctor, 
"  who  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  is  not  my  Althea  Hardy,"  I  replied, 
with  an  indignation  that  I  then  supposed 
unreasoning.  "  She  is  the  daughter  of  a  re 
tired  sea-captain,  and  I  see  her  because  she 
alone  can  rank  me  in  the  class.  Our  minds 
are  sympathetic.  And  Miss  Hardy  has  a 
noble  soul." 

"  She  has  a  fair  body,"  answered  he  ;  "  of 
that  much  we  are  sure." 

I  cast  a  fierce  look  upon  the  man  ;  my  eye 
followed  his  to  that  picture  on  the  wall ;  and 
some  false  shame  kept  me  foolishly  silent. 
I  should  have  spoken  then.  .  .  .  But 
many  such  fair  carrion  must  strew  the  path 
of  so  lordly  a  vulture  as  this  doctor  was  ; 
unlucky  if  they  thought  (as  he  knew  better) 
that  aught  of  soul  they  bore  entangled  in 
their  flesh. 

"  You  do  not  strain  a  morbid  consciousness 
about  a  chemical  reaction,"  said  he.  "  Two 
atoms  rush  together  to  make  a  world,  or 
burn  one,  as  we  saw  last  night ;  it  may  be 
pleasure  or  it  may  be  pain  ;  conscious  organs 
choose  the  former." 

My  distaste  for  the  man  was  such  that  I 


DR.  MATERIALISMUS  15 

hurried  away,  and  went  to  sleep  with  a 
strange  sadness,  in  the  mood  in  which,  as  I 
suppose,  believers  pray ;  but  that  I  was 
none.  Dr.  Materialismus  had  had  a  plum- 
colored  velvet  smoking-jacket  on,  with  a  red 
fez  (he  was  a  sort  of  beau),  and  I  dreamed 
of  it  all  night,  and  of  the  rushing  leather 
band,  and  of  the  grinding  of  the  ice  in  the 
river.  Something  made  me  keep  my  visit 
secret  from  Althea ;  an  evil  something,  as  I 
think  it  now. 

The  following  day  we   had   a  lecture  on 
light.     It  was  one  in  a  course  in  physics,  or 

natural  philosophy,  as  it  was  called  in  B 

College  ;  just  as  they  called  Scotch  psychol 
ogy  "  Mental  Philosophy,"  with  capital  let 
ters  ;  it  was  an  archaic  little  place,  and  it  was 
the  first  course  that  the  German  doctor  had 
prevailed  upon  the  college  government  to 
assign  to  him.  The  students  sat  at  desks, 
ranged  around  the  lecture  platform,  the  floor 
of  the  hall  being  a  concentric  inclined  plane ; 
and  Althea  Hardy's  desk  was  next  to  mine. 
Materialismus  began  with  a  brief  sketch  of 
the  theory  of  sound ;  how  it  consisted  in  vi 
brations  of  the  air,  the  coarsest  medium  of 
space,  but  could  not  dwell  in  ether ;  and 


16  DR.  MATERIALISMUS 

how  slow  beats — blows  of  a  hammer,  for  in 
stance  —  had  no  more  complex  intellectual 
effect,  but  were  mere  consecutive  noises ; 
how  the  human  organism  ceased  to  detect 
these  consecutive  noises  at  about  eight  per 
second,  until  they  reappeared  at  sixteen  per 
second,  the  lowest  tone  which  can  be  heard  ; 
and  how,  at  something  like  thirty-two  thou 
sand  per  second  these  vibrations  ceased  to 
be  heard,  and  were  supposed  unintelligible 
to  humanity,  being  neither  sound  nor  light 
— despite  their  rapid  movement,  dark  and  si 
lent.  But  was  all  this  energy  wasted  to  man 
kind  ?  Adverting  one  moment  to  the  mole 
cular,  or  rather  mathematical,  theory — first 
propounded  by  Democritus,  re-established  by 
Leibnitz,  and  never  since  denied — that  the 
universe,  both  of  mind  and  matter,  body  and 
soul,  was  made  merely  by  innumerable,  infin 
itesimal  points  of  motion,  endlessly  gyrating 
among  themselves — mere  points,  devoid  of 
materiality,  devoid  also  of  soul,  but  each  a 
centre  of  a  certain  force,  which  scientists  en 
title  gravitation,  philosophers  deem  will,  and 
poets  name  love — he  went  on  to  Light.  Light 
is  a  subtler  emotion  (he  remarked  here  that  he 
used  the  word  emotion  advisedlv,  as  all  emo- 


DR.  MATERIALISMUS  17 

tions  alike  were,  in  substance,  the  subjective 
result  of  merely  material  motion).  Light  is  a 
subtler  emotion,  dwelling  in  ether,  but  still 
nothing  but  a  regular  continuity  of  motion 
or  molecular  impact ;  to  speak  more  plainly, 
successive  beats  or  vibrations  reappear  in 
telligible  to  humanity  as  light,  at  something 
like  483,000,000,000  beats  per  second  in  the 
red  ray.  More  exactly  still,  they  appear  first 
as  heat ;  then  as  red,  orange,  yellow,  all  the 
colors  of  the  spectrum,  until  they  disappear 
again,  through  the  violet  ray,  at  something 
like  727,000,000,000  beats  per  second  in  the 
so-called  chemical  rays.  "  After  that,"  he 
closed,  "they  are  supposed  unknown.  The 
higher  vibrations  are  supposed  unintelligible 
to  man,  just  as  he  fancies  there  is  no  more 
subtle  medium  than  his  (already  hypotheti 
cal)  ether.  It  is  possible,"  said  Material- 
ismus,  speaking  in  italics  and  looking  at  Al- 
thea,  "  that  these  higher,  almost  infinitely  rapid 
vibrations  may  be  ivhat  are  called  the  higher 
emotions  or  passions — like  religion,  love  and 
hate — dioelling  in  a  still  more  subtle,  but  yet 
material,  medium,  that  poets  and  churches 
have  picturesquely  termed  heart,  conscience, 
soul."  As  he  said  this  I  too  looked  at  Al- 
2 


18  DR. 


thea.  I  saw  her  bosom  heaving;  her  lips 
were  parted,  and  a  faint  rose  was  in  her 
face.  How  womanly  she  was  growing  ! 

From  that  time  I  felt  a  certain  fierceness 
against  this  German  doctor.  He  had  a  way 
of  patronizing  me,  of  treating  me  as  a  man 
might  treat  some  promising  school-boy,  while 
his  manner  to  Althea  was  that  of  an  equal  — 
or  a  man  of  the  world's  to  a  favored  lady. 
It  was  customary  for  the  professors  in  B  — 
College  to  give  little  entertainments  to  their 
classes  once  in  the  winter  ;  these  usually  took 
the  form  of  tea-parties  ;  but  when  it  came  to 
the  doctor's  turn,  he  gave  a  sleighing  party 
to  the  neighboring  city  of  A  --  ,  where  we 
had  an  elaborate  banquet  at  the  principal 
hotel,  with  champagne  to  drink  ;  and  re 
turned  driving  down  the  frozen  river,  the  ice 
of  which  Dr.  Misrnus  (for  so  we  called  him 
for  short)  had  had  tested  for  the  occasion. 
The  probable  expense  of  this  entertainment 
wTas  discussed  in  the  little  town  for  many 
weeks  after,  and  was  by  some  estimated  as 
high  as  two  hundred  dollars.  The  professor 
had  hired,  besides  the  large  boat-sleigh, 
many  single  sleighs,  in  one  of  which  he  had 
returned,  leading  the  way,  and  driving  with 


DR.  MATERIALISMUS  19 

Althea  Hardy.  It  was  then  I  determined  to 
speak  to  her  about  her  growing  intimacy 
with  this  man. 

I  had  to  wait  many  weeks  for  an  oppor 
tunity.  Our  winter  sports  at  B —  -  used  to 
end  with  a  grand  evening  skating  party  on 
the  Kennebec.  Bonfires  were  built  on  the 
river,  the  safe  mile  or  two  above  the  falls  was 
roped  in  with  lines  of  Chinese  lanterns,  and 
a  supper  of  hot  oysters  and  coffee  was  pro 
vided  at  the  big  central  fire.  It  was  the  fixed 
law  of  the  place  that  the  companion  invited 
by  any  boy  was  to  remain  indisputably  his 
for  the  evening.  No  second  man  would  ever 
venture  to  join  himself  to  a  couple  who  were 
skating  together  on  that  night.  I  had  asked 
Althea  many  weeks  ahead  to  skate  with  me, 
and  she  had  consented.  The  Doctor  Materi- 
alismus  knew  this. 

I,  too,  saw  him  nearly  every  day.  He 
seemed  to  be  fond  of  my  company ;  of  play 
ing  chess  with  me,  or  discussing  metaphys 
ics.  Sometimes  Althea  was  present  at  these 
arguments,  in  which  I  always  took  the  ideal 
istic  side.  But  the  little  college  had  only 
armed  me  with  Bain  and  Locke  and  Mill ; 
and  it  may  be  imagined  what  a  poor  defence 


20  DR.  MATERIALISMUS 

I  could  make  with  these  against  the  German 
doctor,  with  his  volumes  of  metaphysical  re 
alism  and  his  knowledge  of  what  Spinoza, 
Kant,  Schopenhauer,  and  other  defenders  of 
us  from  the  flesh  could  sa}^  on  my  side. 
Nevertheless,  I  sometimes  appeared  to  have 
my  victories.  Althea  was  judge  ;  and  one 
day  I  well  remember,  when  we  were  discus 
sing  the  localization  of  emotion  or  of  voli 
tion  in  the  brain : 

"  Prove  to  me,  if  you  may,  even  that  every 
thought  and  hope  and  feeling  of  mankind  is 
accompanied  always  by  the  same  change  in 
the  same  part  of  the  cerebral  tissue !  "  cried 
I.  "Yet  that  physical  change  is  not  the 
soul-passion,  but  the  effect  of  it  upon  the 
body ;  the  mere  trace  in  the  brain  of  its  pas 
sage,  like  the  furrow  of  a  ship  upon  the 
sea."  And  I  looked  at  Althea,  who  smiled 
upon  me. 

"But  if,"  said  the  doctor,  "by  the  physical 
movement  I  produce  the  psychical  passion  ? 
by  the  change  of  the  brain -atoms  cause  the 
act  of  will  ?  by  a  mere  bit  of  glass-and-iron 
mechanism  set  first  in  motion,  I  make  the 
prayer,  or  thought,  or  love,  follow,  in  plain 
succession,  to  the  machine's  movement,  on 


DR.  MATERIALISMUS  21 

every  soul  that  comes  within  its  sphere  — 
will  you  then  say  that  the  metaphor  of  ship 
and  wake  is  a  good  one,  when  it  is  the  wake 
that  precedes  the  ship  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  I,  smiling. 

"  Then  come  to  my  house  to-night,"  said 
the  doctor ;  "  unless,"  he  added  with  a  sneer, 
"you  are  afraid  to  take  such  risks  before 
your  skating  party."  And  then  I  saw  Al- 
thea's  lips  grow  bloodless,  and  my  heart 
swelled  within  me. 

"  I  will  come,"  I  muttered,  without  a  smile. 

"  When  ?  "  said  the  professor. 

"  Now." 

Althea  suddenly  ran  between  us.  "  You 
will  not  hurt  him  ?  "  she  said,  appealingly  to 
him.  "  Remember,  oh,  remember  what  he 
has  before  him !  "  And  here  Althea  burst 
into  a  passion  of  weeping,  and  I  looked  in 
wild  bewilderment  from  her  to  him. 

"I  vill  go,"  said  the  doctor  to  me.  "I 
vill  leafe  you  to  gonsole  her."  He  spoke  in 
his  stronger  German  accent,  and  as  he  went 
out  he  beckoned  me  to  the  door.  His  sneer 
was  now  a  leer,  and  he  said : 

"  I  vould  kiss  her  there,  if  I  vere  you." 

I  slammed  the  door  in  his  face,  and  when 


22  DR.   MATERIALISMUS 

I  turned  back  to  Althea  her  passion  of  tears 
had  not  ceased,  and  her  beautiful  bright  hair 
lay  in  masses  over  the  poor,  shabby  desk.  I 
did  kiss  her,  on  her  soft  face  where  the  tears 
were.  I  did  not  dare  to  kiss  her  lips,  though 
I  think  I  could  have  done  it  before  I  had 
known  this  doctor.  She  checked  her  tears 
at  once. 

"  Now  I  must  go  to  the  doctor's,"  I  said. 
"Don't  be  afraid;  he  can  do  me  or  my  soul 
no  harm ;  and  remember  to-morrow  night." 
I  saw  Althea's  lips  blanch  again  at  this ;  but 
she  looked  at  me  with  dry  eyes,  and  I  left 
her. 

The  winter  evening  was  already  dark,  and 
as  I  went  down  the  streets  toward  the  river  I 
heard  the  crushing  of  the  ice  over  the  falls. 
The  old  street  where  the  doctor  lived  was 
quite  deserted.  Trade  had  been  there  in  the 
old  days,  but  now  was  nothing.  Yet  in  the 
silence,  coming  along,  I  heard  the  whirr  of 
steam,  or,  at  least,  the  clanking  of  machinery 
and  whirling  wheels. 

I  toiled  up  the  crazy  staircase.  The  doctor 
was  already  in  his  room — in  the  same  purple 
velvet  he  had  worn  before.  On  his  study 
table  was  a  smoking  supper. 


DR.  MATERIALISMUS  23 

"  I  hope,"  he  said,  "  you  have  not  supped 
on  the  way  ?  " 

"  I  have  not,"  I  said.  Our  supper  at  our 
college  table  consisted  of  tea  and  cold  meat 
and  pie.  The  doctor's  was  of  oysters,  sweet 
breads,  and  wine.  After  it  he  gave  me  an  im 
ported  cigar,  and  I  sat  in  his'  reclining-chair 
and  listened  to  him.  I  remember  that  this 
chair  reminded  me,  as  I  sat  there,  of  a  den 
tist's  chair ;  and  I  good-naturedly  wondered 
what  operations  he  might  perform  on  me — I 
helpless,  passive  with  his  tobacco  and  his  wine. 

"Now  I  am  ready,"  said  he.  And  he 
opened  the  door  that  led  from  his  study  into 
the  old  warehouse-room,  and  I  saw  him  touch 
one  of  the  steel  levers  opposite  the  rows  of 
glass  rods.  "You  see,"  he  said,  "my  me 
chanism  is  a  simple  one.  With  all  these 
rods  of  different  lengths,  and  the  almost  in 
finite  speed  of  revolution  that  I  am  able  to 
gif  them  with  the  power  that  comes  from  the 
river  applied  through  a  chain  of  belted  wheels, 
is  a  rosined  leather  tongue,  like  that  of  a 
music-box  or  the  bow  of  a  violin,  touching 
each  one  ;  and  so  I  get  any  number  of  beats 
per  second  that  I  will."  (He  always  said 
will,  this  man,  and  never  ivish.) 


24  DR.   MATERIALISMUS 

"Now,  listen,"  lie  whispered;  and  I  saw 
him  bend  down  another  lever  in  the  labora 
tory,  and  there  came  a  grand  bass  note — a 
tone  I  have  heard  since  only  in  32-foot  organ 
pipes.  "  Now,  you  see,  it  is  Sound."  And 
he  placed  his  hand,  as  he  spoke,  upon  a  small 
crank  or  governor ;  and,  as  he  turned  it  slowly, 
note  by  note  the  sound  grew  higher.  In  the 
other  room  I  could  see  one  immense  wheel, 
revolving  in  an  endless  leather  band,  with 
the  power  that  was  furnished  by  the  Kenne- 
bec,  and  as  each  sound  rose  clear,  I  saw  the 
wheel  turn  faster. 

Note  by  note  the  tones  increased  in  pitch, 
clear  and  elemental.  I  listened,  recumbent. 
There  was  a  marvellous  fascination  in  the 
strong  production  of  those  simple  tones. 

"  You  see  I  hafe  no  overtones,"  I  heard  the 
doctor  say.  "All  is  simple,  because  it  is  me 
chanism.  It  is  the  exact  reproduction  of  the 
requisite  mathematical  number.  I  hafe  many 
hundreds  of  rods  of  glass,  and  then  the 
leather  band  can  go  so  fast  as  I  will,  and  the 
tongue  acts  upon  them  like  the  bow  upon  the 
violin." 

I  listened,  I  was  still  at  peace ;  all  this  I 
could  understand,  though  the  notes  came 


DR.  MATERIALISMUS  25 

strangely  clear.  Undoubtedly,  to  get  a  defi 
nite  finite  number  of  beats  per  second  was  a 
mere  question  of  mathematics.  Empirically, 
we  have  always  done  it,  with  tuning-forks, 
organ-pipes,  bells. 

He  was  in  the  middle  of  the  scale  already ; 
faster  whirled  that  distant  wheel,  and  the  in 
tense  tone  struck  C  in  alt.  I  felt  a  yearning 
for  some  harmony ;  that  terrible,  simple,  sin 
gle  tone  was  so  elemental,  so  savage  ;  it  racked 
my  nerves  and  strained  them  to  unison,  like 
the  rosined  bow  drawn  close  against  the 
violin-string  itself.  It  grew  intensely  shrill ; 
fearfully,  piercingly  shrill ;  shrill  to  the  rend- 
ing-point  of  the  tympanum  ;  and  then  came 
silence. 

I  looked.  In  the  dusk  of  the  adjoining 
warehouse  the  huge  wheel  was  whirling  more 
rapidly  than  ever. 

The  German  professor  gazed  into  my  eyes, 
his  own  were  bright  with  triumph,  on  his  lips 
a  curl  of  cynicism.  "  Now,"  he  said,  "  you 
will  have  what  you  call  emotions.  But,  first, 
I  must  bind  you  close." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders  amiably,  smiling 
with  what  at  the  time  I  thought  contempt, 
while  he  deftly  took  a  soft  white  rope  and 


26  DR.  MATERIALISES 

bound  me  many  times  to  his  chair.  But  the 
rope  was  very  strong,  and  I  now  saw  that  the 
frame-work  of  the  chair  was  of  iron.  And 
even  while  he  bound  me,  I  started  as  if  from 
a  sleep,  and  became  conscious  of  the  dull 
whirring  caused  by  the  powerful  machinery 
that  abode  within  the  house,  and  suddenly  a 
great  rage  came  over  me. 

I,  fool,  and  this  man !  I  swelled  and  strained 
at  the  soft  white  ropes  that  bound  me,  but  in 
vain.  .  .  .  By  God,  I  could  have  killed 
him  then  and  there  !  .  .  .  And  he  looked 
at  me  and  grinned,  twisting  his  face  to  fit  his 
crooked  soul.  I  strained  at  the  ropes,  and 
I  think  one  of  them  slipped  a  bit,  for  his 
face  blanched ;  and  then  I  saw  him  go  in 
to  the  other  room  and  press  the  last  lever 
back  a  little,  and  it  seemed  to  me  the  wheel 
revolved  more  slowly. 

Then,  in  a  moment,  all  was  peace  again, 
and  it  was  as  if  I  heard  a  low,  sweet  sound, 
only  that  there  was  no  sound,  but  something 
like  what  you  might  dream  the  music  of  the 
spheres  to  be.  He  came  to  my  chair  again 
and  unbound  me. 

My  momentary  passion  had  vanished. 
"Light  your  cigar,"  he  said,  "it  has  gone 


DR.  MATERIALISMUS  27 

out."  I  did  so.  I  had  a  strange,  restful 
feeling,  as  of  being  at  one  with  the  world,  a 
sense  of  peace,  between  the  peace  of  death 
and  that  of  sleep. 

"  This,"  he  said,  "is  the  pulse  of  the  world ; 
and  it  is  Sleep.  You  remember,  in  the  Nib- 
elung-saga,  when  Erda,  the  Earth  spirit,  is 
invoked,  unwillingly  she  appears,  and  then 
she  says,  Lass  mich  schlafen — let  me  sleep  on 
—to  Wotan,  king  of  the  gods  ?  Some  of  the 
old  myths  are  true  enough,  though  not  the 
Christian  ones,  most  always.  .  .  .  This 
pulse  of  the  earth  seems  to  you  dead  silence, 
yet  the  beats  are  pulsing  thousands  a  second 
faster  than  the  highest  sound.  .  .  .  For 
emotions  are  subtler  things  than  sound,  as 
you  sentimental  ones  would  say;  you  poets 
that  talk  of  '  heart '  and  '  soul.'  We  men  of 
science  say  it  this  way:  That  those  bodily 
organs  that  answer  to  your  myth  of  a  soul 
are  but  more  widely  framed,  more  nicely 
textured,  so  as  to  respond  to  the  impact  of  a 
greater  number  of  movements  in  the  second." 

While  he  was  speaking  he  had  gone  into 
the  other  room,  and  was  bending  the  lever 
down  once  more ;  I  flew  at  his  throat.  But 
even  before  I  reached  him  my  motive 


28  DR.   MATERIALISMU8 

changed ;  seizing  a  Spanish  knife  that  was 
on  the  table,  I  sought  to  plunge  it  in  my 
breast.  But,  with  a  quick  stroke  of  the 
elbow,  as  if  he  had  been  prepared  for  the 
attempt,  he  dashed  the  knife  from  my  hand 
to  the  floor,  and  I  sank  in  despair  back  into 
his  arm-chair. 

"  Yes-s,"  said  he,  with  a  sort  of  hiss  of 
content  like  a  long-drawn  sigh  of  relief. 
"  Yes-s-s — I  haf  put  my  mechanik  quickly 
through  the  Murder-motif  without  binding 
you  again,  after  I  had  put  it  back  to  sleep." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  said,  languidly. 
How  could  I  ever  hope  to  win  Althea  away 
from  this  man's  wiles  ? 

"When  man's  consciousness  awakes  from 
the  sleep  of  the  world,  its  first  motive  is 
Murder,"  said  he ;  "  you  remember  the  He 
brew  myth  of  Cain  ?  "  and  he  laughed  silently. 
"  Its  next  is  Suicide ;  its  third,  Despair. 
This  time  I  have  put  my  mechanik  quickly 
through  the  Murder  movement,  so  your  wish 
to  kill  me  was  just  now  but  momentary." 

There  was  an  evil  gleam  in  his  eye  as  he 
said  this. 

"  I  leafe  a  dagger  on  the  table,  because  if 
I  left  a  pistol  the  subject  would  fire  it,  and 


DR.   MATERIALISMUS  29 

that  makes  noise.  Then  at  the  motion  of 
Suicide  you  tried  to  kill  yourself  :  the  suicide 
is  one  grade  higher  than  the  murderer.  And 
now,  you  are  in  Despair." 

He  bent  the  lever  further  down  and  touched 
a  small  glass  rod. 

"  And  now,  I  will  gife  to  you — I  alone — all 
the  emotions  of  which  humanity  is  capable." 

How  much  time  followed,  I  know  not ;  nor 
whether  it  was  not  all  a  dream,  only  that  a 
dream  can  hardly  be  more  vivid — as  this 
was — than  my  life  itself.  First,  a  nightmare 
came  of  evil  passions ;  after  murder  and  sui 
cide  and  despair  came  revenge,  envy,  hatred, 
greed  of  money,  greed  of  power,  lust.  I  say 
"  came,"  for  each  one  came  on  me  with  all  the 
force  the  worst  of  men  can  feel.  Had  I  been 
free,  in  some  other  place,  I  should  inexorably 
have  committed  the  crimes  these  evil  passions 
breed,  and  there  was  always  some  pretext  of 
a  cause.  Now  it  was  revenge  on  Material- 
ismus  himself  for  his  winning  of  Althea 
Hardy;  now  it  was  envy  of  his  powers,  or 
greed  of  his  possessions ;  and  then  my  roving 
eye  fell  on  that  strange  picture  of  his  I  men 
tioned  before ;  the  face  of  the  woman  now 
seemed  to  be  Althea's.  In  a  glance  all  the 


30  DR.  MATERIALISMUS 

poetry,  all  tlie  sympathy  of  my  mind  or  soul 
that  I  thought  bound  me  to  her  had  vanished, 
and  in  their  place  I  only  knew  desire.  The 
doctor's  leer  seemed  to  read  my  thoughts  ;  he 
let  the  lever  stay  long  at  this  speed,  and  then 
he  put  it  back  again  to  that  strange  rhythm 
of  Sleep. 

"  So — I  must  rest  you  a  little  between 
times,"  he  said.  "  Is  my  tine  poet  con 
vinced  ?  " 

But  I  was  silent,  and  he  turned  another 
wheel. 

"  All  these  are  only  evil  passions,"  said  I, 
"  there  may  well  be  something  physical  in 
them." 

"  Poh — I  can  gife  you  just  so  well  the 
others,"  he  sneered.  "  I  tell  you  why  I  do 
not  gife  you  all  at  once — 

"  You  can  produce  lust,"  I  answered,  "  but 
not  love." 

"  Poh — it  takes  but  a  little  greater  speed. 
What  you  call  love  is  but  the  multiple  of  lust 
and  cosmic  love,  that  is,  gravitation." 

I  stared  at  the  man. 

"  It  is  quite  as  I  say.  About  two  hundred 
thousand  vibrations  make  in  man's  cerebrum 
what  you  call  lust ;  about  four  billion  per  sec- 


DR.   MATERIALISMUS  31 

ond,  that  is  gravitation,  make  what  the  phil 
osophers  call  will,  the  poets,  cosmic  love  ; 
this  comes  just  after  light,  white  light,  which 
is  the  sum  of  all  the  lights.  And  their  mul 
tiple  again,  of  love  and  light,  makes  many 
sextillions,  and  that  is  love  of  God,  what  the 
priests  name  religion."  ...  I  think  I 
grew  faint,  for  he  said,  "  You  must  hafe  some 
refreshments,  or  you  cannot  bear  it." 

He  broke  some  raw  eggs  in  a  glass,  in 
some  sherry,  and  placed  it  by  my  side,  and  I 
saw  him  bend  the  lever  much  farther. 

"  Perhaps,"  I  spoke  out,  then,  "  you  can 
create  the  emotion,  or  the  mental  existence — 
whatever  you  call  it — of  God  himself."  I 
spoke  with  scorn,  for  my  mind  was  clearer 
than  ever. 

"  I  can — almost,"  he  muttered.  "  Just 
now  I  have  turned  the  rhythm  to  the  thought 
millions,  which  lie  above  what  you  call  evil 
passions,  between  them  and  what  you  call 
the  good  ones.  It  is  all  a  mere  question  of 
degree.  In  the  eye  of  science  all  are  the 
same ;  morally,  one  is  alike  so  good  as  the 
other.  Only  motion — that  is  life  ;  and  slow 
er,  slower,  that  is  nearer  death ;  and  life  is 
good,  and  death  is  evil." 


32  DR.  MATERIALISMUS 

11  But  I  can  have  these  thoughts  without 
your  machinery,"  said  I. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  "and  I  can  cause  them 
with  it ;  that  proves  they  are  mechanical. 
Now,  the  rhythm  is  on  the  intellectual-process 
movement ;  hence  you  argue." 

Millions  of  thoughts,  fancies,  inspirations, 
flashed  through  my  brain  as  he  left  me  to 
busy  himself  with  other  levers.  How  long 
this  time  lasted  I  again  knew  not ;  but  it 
seemed  that  I  passed  through  all  the  expe 
rience  of  human  life.  Then  suddenly  my 
thinking  ceased,  and  I  became  conscious  only 
of  a  bad  odor  by  my  side.  This  was  followed 
in  a  moment  by  an  intense  scarlet  light. 

"  Just  so,"  he  said,  as  if  he  had  noted  my 
expression  ;  "it  is  the  eggs  in  your  glass, 
they  altered  when  we  passed  through  the 
chemical  rays;  they  will  now  be  rotten." 
And  he  took  the  glass  and  threw  it  out  the 
window.  "It  was  altered  as  we  passed 
through  the  spectrum  by  no  other  process 
than  the  brain  thinks." 

He  had  darkened  the  room,  but  the  light 
changed  from  red  through  orange,  yellow, 
green,  blue,  violet ;  then,  after  a  moment's 
darkness,  it  began  again,  more  glorious  than 


DR.  MATERIALISMUS  33 

before.  White,  white  it  was  now,  most  glori 
ous  ;  it  flooded  the  old  warehouse,  and  the 
shadows  rolled  from  the  dark  places  in  my 
soul.  And  close  on  the  light  followed  Hope 
again  ;  hope  of  life,  of  myself,  of  the  world, 
of  Althea. 

"  Hope — it  is  the  first  of  the  motions  you 
call  virtuous,"  came  his  sibilant  voice,  but  I 
heeded  him  not.  For  even  as  he  spoke  my 
soul  was  lifted  unto  Faith,  and  I  knew  that 
this  man  lied. 

"  I  can  do  but  one  thing  more,"  said  he, 
"  and  that  is — Love." 

"  I  thought,"  said  I,  "  you  could  make 
communion  with  the  Deity." 

"  And  so  I  could,"  he  cried,  angrily,  "so  I 
could  ;  but  I  must  first  give  my  glass  rod  an 
infinite  rotation  ;  the  number  of  vibrations 
in  a  second  must  be  a  number  which  is  a 
multiple  of  all  other  numbers,  however  great ; 
for  that  even  my  great  fly-wheel  must  have 
an  infinite  speed.  Ah,  your  'loft  with  pow 
er  '  does  not  give  me  that.  .  .  .  But  it 
would  be  only  an  idea  if  I  could  do  that  too, 
nothing  but  a  rhythmic  motion  in  your 
brain."  .  .  . 

Then  my  faith  rose  well  above  this  idle 
3 


34:  DR.  MATERIALI8MU8 

chatter.  But  I  kept  silence  ;  for  again  my 
soul  had  passed  out  of  the  ken  of  this  Ger 
man  doctor.  Althea  I  saw  ;  Althea  in  the 
dark  room  before  me  ;  Althea,  and  I  had 
communion  with  her  soul.  Then  I  knew  in 
deed  that  I  did  love  her. 

The  ecstasy  of  that  moment  knew  no  time ; 
it  may  have  been  a  minute  or  an  hour,  as  we 
mortals  measure  it ;  it  was  but  an  eternity  of 
bliss  to  me.  .  .  .  Then  followed  again 
faith  and  hope,  and  then  I  awoke  and  saw  the 
room  all  radiant  with  the  calm  of  that  white 
light — the  light  that  Dante  saw  so  near  to  God. 

But  it  changed  again  to  violet,  like  the  gla 
cier's  cave,  blue  like  the  heavens,  yellow  like 
the  day ;  then  faded  through  the  scarlet  into 
night. 

Again  I  was  in  a  sea  of  thoughts  and  phan 
tasies  ;  the  inspiration  of  a  Shakespeare,  the 
fancy  of  a  Mozart  or  a  Titian,  the  study  of  a 
Newton,  all  in  turn  were  mine.  And  then  my 
evil  dreams  began.  Through  lust  to  greed  of 
power,  then  to  avarice,  hatred,  envy,  and  re 
venge,  my  soul  was  driven  like  a  leaf  before 
the  autumn  wind. 

Then  I  rose  and  flew  at  his  throat  once 
more.  "  Thou  liest  1 "  I  cried.  "  Heed  not 


DR.  MATERIALISES  35 

the  rabble's  cry — God  lies  NOT  in  a  rotting 

g!" 

I  remember  no  more. 


egg1- 


When  I  regained  consciousness  it  was  a 
winter  twilight,  and  the  room  was  cold.  I 
was  alone  in  the  doctor's  study  and  the  ma 
chinery  in  the  house  was  stilled.  ...  I 
went  to  the  eastern  window  and  saw  that  the 
twilight  was  not  the  twilight  of  the  dawn.  I 
I  must  have  slept  all  day.  ...  As  I 
turned  back  I  saw  a  folded  paper  on  the 
table,  and  read,  in  the  doctor's  hand : 

"  In  six  hours  you  have  passed  through  all 
the  thoughts,  all  the  wills,  and  all  the  pas 
sions  known  to  devils,  men,  or  angels.  You 
must  now  sleep  deeply  or  you  die.  I  have 
put  the  lever  on  the  rhythm  of  the  world, 
which  is  Sleep. 

"  In  twelve  hours  I  shall  stop  it,  and  you 
will  wake. 

"  Then  you  had  better  go  home  and  seek 
your  finite  sleep,  or  I  have  known  men  lose 
their  mind." 

I  staggered  out  into  the  street,  and  sought 
my  room.  My  head  was  still  dizzy,  my 


36  DR.  MATERIALISMUS 

brain  felt  tired,  and  my  soul  was  sere.  I  felt 
like  an  old  man  ;  and  yet  my  heart  was  still 
half-drunk  with  sleep,  and  enamoured  with  it, 
entranced  with  that  profound  slumber  of  the 
world  to  which  all  consciousness  comes  as  a 
sorrow. 

The  night  was  intensely  cold ;  the  stars 
were  like  blue  fires  ;  a  heavy  ox-sledge  went 
by  me,  creaking  in  the  snow.  It  was  a  fine 
night  for  the  river.  I  suddenly  remembered 
that  it  must  be  the  night  for  the  skating 
party,  and  my  engagement  with  Althea.  And 
with  her  there  came  a  memory  of  that  love 
that  I  had  felt  for  her,  sublimated,  as  it  had 
been,  beyond  all  earthly  love. 

I  hurried  back  to  my  room  ;  and  as  I  lit 
the  lamp  I  saw  a  note  addressed  to  me,  in 
her  handwriting,  lying  on  my  study  table.  I 
opened  it;  all  it  contained  was  in  two 
phrases  : 

"  Good-by ;  forgive  me. 

"  ALTHEA." 

I  knew  not  what  to  think ;  but  my  heart 
worked  quicker  than  my  brain.  It  led  me  to 
Althea's  house ;  the  old  lady  with  whom  she 
lived  told  me  that  she  had  already  started  for 


DR.   MATERIALISMUS  37 

the  skating  party.  Already  ?  I  did  not  dare 
to  ask  with  whom.  It  was  a  breach  of  cus 
tom  that  augured  darkly,  her  not  waiting  for 
me,  her  escort. 

On  my  way  to  the  river  I  took  the  street 
by  the  house  of  Materialismus.  They  were 
not  there.  The  old  warehouse  was  dark  in 
all  its  windows.  I  went  in ;  the  crazy 
wooden  building  was  trembling  with  the 
Power ;  but  all  was  dark  and  silent  but  the 
slow  beating  of  the  Power  on  the  Murder 
pulse. 

I  snatched  up  the  Spanish  dagger  where 
it  still  lay  on  the  table,  and  rushed  out  of 
that  devil's  workshop  and  along  the  silent 
street  to  the  river.  Far  up  the  stream  I 
could  already  make  out  a  rosy  glow,  the  fires 
and  lanterns  of  the  skating  party.  I  had  no 
skates,  but  ran  out  upon  the  river  in  a 
straight  line,  just  skirting  the  brink  of  the 
falls  where  the  full  flood  maned  itself  and 
arched  downward,  steady,  to  its  dissolution 
in  the  mist.  I  came  to  the  place  of  pleasure, 
marked  out  by  gay  lines  of  paper  lanterns  ; 
the  people  spoke  to  me,  and  some  laughed, 
as  I  threaded  my  way  through  them  ;  but 
I  heeded  not ;  they  swerving  and  darting 


38  DR.  MATERIALISMU8 

about  me,  like  so  many  butterflies,  I  keeping 
to  my  line.  By  the  time  I  had  traversed  the 
illuminated  enclosure  I  had  seen  all  who  were 
in  it.  Althea  was  not  among  them. 

I  reached  the  farthest  lantern,  and  looked 
out.  The  white  river  stretched  broad  away 
under  the  black  sky,  faintly  mirroring  large, 
solemn  stars.  It  took  a  moment  for  my  eyes, 
dazzled  by  the  tawdry  light,  to  get  used  to 
the  quiet  starlight ;  but  then  I  fancied  that  I 
saw  two  figures,  skating  side  by  side,  far  up 
the  river.  They  were  well  over  to  the  east 
ern  shore,  skating  up  stream  ;  a  mile  or  more 

above  them  the  road  to  A crossed  the 

river,  in  a  long  covered  bridge. 

I  knew  that  they  were  making  for  that 
road,  where  the  doctor  doubtless  had  a  sleigh 
in  waiting.  By  crossing  diagonally,  I  could, 
perhaps,  cut  them  off. 

"  Lend  me  your  skates,"  I  said  to  a  friend 
who  had  come  up  and  stood  looking  at  me 
curiously.  Before  he  well  understood,  I  had 
torn  them  off  his  feet  and  fitted  them  to  my 
own ;  and  I  remember  that  to  save  time  I 
cut  his  ankle-strap  off  with  the  Spanish 
knife.  A  moment  more  and  I  was  speeding 
up  the  silent  river,  with  no  light  but  the 


DR.  MATERIALISMUS  39 

stars,  and  no  guide  but  the  two  figures  that 
were  slowly  creeping  up  in  the  shadow  of 
the  shore.  I  laughed  aloud  ;  I  knew  this 
German  beau  was  no  match  for  me  in  speed 
or  strength.  I  did  not  throw  the  knife  away, 
for  I  meant  more  silent  and  more  certain 
punishment  than  a  naked  blow  could  give. 
The  Murder  motive  still  was  in  my  brain. 

I  do  not  know  when  they  first  knew  that 
I  was  coming.  But  I  soon  saw  them  hur 
rying,  as  if  from  fear ;  at  least  her  strokes 
were  feeble,  and  he  seemed  to  be  urging,  or 
dragging  her  on.  By  the  side  of  the  riv 
er,  hitched  to  the  last  post  of  the  bridge,  I 
could  see  a  single  horse  and  sleigh. 

But  I  shouted  with  delight,  for  I  was  al 
ready  almost  even  with  them,  and  could 
easily  dash  across  to  the  shore  while  they 
were  landing.  I  kept  to  my  straight  line  ;  I 
was  now  below  the  last  pier  of  the  bridge  ; 
and  then  I  heard  a  laugh  from  him,  answer 
ing  my  shout.  Between  me  and  the  bank 
was  a  long  open  channel  of  rippling  dark 
water,  leading  up  and  down,  many  miles, 
from  beneath  the  last  section  of  the  bridge. 

They  had  reached  the  shore,  and  he  was 
dragging  her,  half  reluctant,  up  the  bank. 


40  DR.   MATERIALISMUS 

In  a  minute,  and  lie  would  have  reached  his 
horse. 

I  put  the  knife  between  my  teeth  and 
plunged  in.  In  a  few  strokes  of  swimming  I 
was  across  ;  but  the  ice  was  shelving  on  the 
other  side,  and  brittle  ;  and  the  strong  stream 
had  a  tendency  to  drag  me  under.  I  got  my 
elbows  on  the  edge  of  ice,  and  it  broke. 
Again  I  got  my  arms  upon  the  shelving  ice ; 
it  broke  again.  I  heard  a  wild  cry  from 
Althea — I  cursed  him — and  I  knew  no  more. 

When  I  next  knew  life,  it  was  spring ;  and 
I  saw  the  lilac  buds  leafing  by  my  window  in 
the  garden.  I  had  been  saved  by  the  others 
— some  of  them  had  followed  me  up  the 
river — unconscious,  they  told  me,  the  dagger 
still  clinched  in  my  hand. 

Althea  I  have  never  seen  again.  First  I 
heard  that  she  had  married  him ;  but  then, 
after  some  years,  came  a  rumor  that  she  had 
not  married  him.  Her  father  lost  his  fortune 
in  a  vain  search  for  her,  and  died.  After 
many  years,  she  returned,  alone.  She  lives, 
her  beauty  faded,  in  the  old  place. 


AN  ALABAMA  COURTSHIP 

ITS  SIMPLICITIES  AND   ITS   COMPLEXI 
TIES 


I  MUST  first  tell  you  how  I  came  to  be  ever 
a  commercial  traveller.  My  father  was 
a  Higginbotham — one  of  the  Higginbothanis 
of  Salem — but  my  mother,  Marie  Lawrence, 
was  a  far-off  cousin  of  the  wife  of  old  Thom 
as  Lawrence,  the  great  tobacconist  of  New 
York.  Horatio  Higginbotham  was  both  an 
author  and  an  artist,  but  he  neither  wrote  nor 
painted  down  to  the  popular  taste  ;  and  as  he 
was  also  a  gentleman,  and  had  lived  like  one, 
he  left  very  little  money.  Not  that  he  took 
it  with  him  when  he  died,  but  he  had  spent 
it  on  the  way.  It  costs  considerable  to  get 
through  this  world,  if  you  travel  first-class 
and  pay  as  you  go.  And,  at  least,  my  father 
left  no  debts. 

He  left  my  dear  mother,  however,  and  his 
assets  were  represented  by  me,  an  expen 
sive  Junior  at  Newbridge.  And  as  none  of 
the  family  counting-rooms  and  cotton-mills 


44  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

seemed  to  open  the  door  for  me — so  degen 
erate  a  scion  of  a  money-making  race  as  to 
have  already  an  artist  behind  him — I  was  glad 
to  enter  the  wide  portal  of  Cousin  Lawrence's 
tobacco  manufactory. 

Here,  as  in  most  successful  trades,  you 
were,  all  but  the  very  heir-presumptive,  put 
through  a  regular  mill.  First,  a  year  or  two 
in  the  factory,  just  to  get  used  to  the  sneez 
ing  ;  and  then  y ou  took  to  the  road ;  and 
after  a  few  years  of  this  had  thoroughly 
taught  you  the  retail  trade,  you  were  pro 
moted  to  be  a  gentleman  and  hob-nob  with 
the  planters  in  Cuba,  and  ride  over  their 
landed  estates. 

I  got  through  the  factory  well  enough  ;  but 
the  road,  as  you  may  fancy,  was  a  trial  in 
prospect.  When  my  time  came  (being  then, 
as  you  will  see,  something  of  a  snob)  I  was 
careful  to  choose  the  wildest  circuit,  most 
remote  from  Boston  and  from  Boston  ways. 
The  extreme  West — Denver,  Kansas  City, 
Omaha — was  out  of  the  question;  even  the 
South — New  Orleans,  Charleston,  Florida 
particularly — was  unsafe.  Indiana  was  bar 
barous  enough,  but  went  with  Ohio  and 
Michigan ;  and  I  finally  chose  what  was 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  45 

called  the  Tennessee  Circuit,  which  included 
all  the  country  west  of  the  Alleghanies,  from 
the  Ohio  Eiver  to  the  Gulf  States.  Louisville 
belonged  to  my  Cincinnati  colleague,  but  the 
rest  of  Kentucky  and  Tennessee,  from  the 
Cumberland  and  Great  Smoky  Mountains  to 
the  hills  of  Alabama  and  the  plains  of  Mem 
phis,  were  mine. 

And  by  no  means  uninteresting  I  found  it. 
I  travelled,  you  must  know,  in  snuff ;  and  the 
Southern  mountains,  with  the  headwaters  of 
the  Western  rivers,  Cumberland,  Alabama, 
Tennessee,  are  the  country  of  the  snuff-taker 
in  America. 

The  civilization,  the  picturesqueness  of  our 
country  lies  always  between  the  mountains 
and  the  seaboard.  Trace  the  Appalachian 
summits  from  their  first  uprearing  at  Tra- 
cadiegash  or  Gaspe,  to  that  last  laurel-hill 
near  Tupelo  in  Mississippi — on  the  left  of 
you  lies  history,  character,  local  identity  ;  on 
the  right  that  great  common  place,  that  vast 
central  prairie,  lying  stolidly  spread  out  be 
tween  the  Rockies  and  the  Blue  Ridge,  pro 
ducing  food.  Heaven  keep  us  above  that 
central  plain,  one  would  say,  and  from  the 
men  and  moods  and  motives  that  it  breeds 


46  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

— but   that  out  of  it,  in  the  very  unidentified 
middle  of  it,  the  Lord  upreared  a  Lincoln. 

However,  my  beat  lay  so  well  to  the  south 
of  it,  lurked  so  far  up  in  the  mountain  alley 
ways  and  southern  river-canons,  that  I  found 
much  to  study  and  more  to  see.  The  rail 
way  did  little  more  than  take  me  to  the  field 
of  labor ;  the  saddle  or  the  wagon  or  the 
country  stage  must  do  the  rest.  My  first 
trip  was  to  the  east  of  my  dominions ;  my 
headquarters  were  at  Knoxville,  and  from 
there  I  rode  through  some  thousand  miles  of 
mountain  and  of  cove ;  and  different  enough 
and  remote  enough  it  was  from  all  that  I  had 
known  before,  and  from  all  that  might  know 
me  or  look  askance  upon  a  travelling-mer 
chant  selling  snuff  by  sample.  But  this  was 
but  a  breather,  as  it  were  ;  and  on  my  second 
journey  I  was  ordered  to  replace  my  pre 
decessor,  Jerry  Sullivan,  at  his  headquarters 
in  Chattanooga,  and  take  entire  charge  of 
that  country.  Already  I  had  contracted  a 
prejudice  for  the  slow  and  unconventional 
modes  of  travelling;  and  after  I  had  seen 
Jerry  Sullivan,  a  genial  Irishman,  and  had 
formal  delivery  of  his  office,  and  he  had  gone 
back  with  evident  delight  to  his  beloved  New 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  47 

York,  and  I  had  sat  there  alone  a  day  or  two, 
I  thought  that  I  would  open  out  the  business 
westward.  And  looking  at  the  map,  it  oc 
curred  to  me  that  the  Tennessee  River  was 
the  natural  avenue  to  my  domains  in  that 
direction.  Luckily,  I  made  the  acquaintance 
of  a  young  land-prospector,  with  romantic  in 
stincts  like  my  own ;  and  the  second  evening- 
after  this  idea  came  to  me  he  and  I  were 
seated  in  a  wooden  dug-out  canoe,  my  parcels 
of  samples  and  his  instruments  in  the  waist 
of  the  boat,  drifting  swiftly  down  the  brown 
stream  at  sunset,  under  the  lofty  shadow  of 
the  Lookout  Mountain. 

The  stream  was  shallow,  and  its  waters 
so  opaque  that  six  inches  looked  like  six 
fathoms,  and  it  happened  not  rarely  that  we 
ran  upon  a  sand-bar  in  full  mid-stream  ;  but 
a  hard  shove  at  the  pole  would  send  us  off, 
usually  sideways,  careening  in  the  swirl. 
When  we  were  not  aground  our  time  Avas 
rapid — some  six  or  seven  miles  an  hour,  with 
the  current,  and  the  pole,  and  paddle.  The 
mountains  came  close  around  us,  and  the 
shores  contracted  ;  and  pretty  soon  the  rail 
way  took  a  plunge  into  a  tunnel  and  disap 
peared.  No  house  nor  light  was  in  sight 


48  AN  ALABAMA   COUETSHIP 

when  the  moon  came  out.  For  some  twenty 
miles  or  more  we  swung  down  the  swift 
stream  silently,  in  a  country  that  seemed 
quite  unsettled.  And  as  the  night  made  it 
still  harder  to  make  out  the  deeper  places,  it 
is  not  surprising  that  after  one  long,  gradual 
grate  upon  a  mid-channel  sand-bank,  we  set 
tled  in  a  bed  that  all  our  efforts  were  insuf 
ficient  to  dislodge  us  from.  And  Arthur  Coe, 
my  companion,  by  way  of  making  the  best 
night  of  it  possible,  and  the  moon  and  the 
mild  May  weather  falling  in,  drew  out  a  banjo 
from  his  traps  in  the  bow  and  made  melodies 
not  unpleasant  to  a  man  who  lay  silent  in  the 
stern,  looking  at  the  stars  and  smoking  his 
pipe. 

A  fine  range  of  trees  lined  the  opposite 
shore  and,  beyond,  the  forest  rolled  up  in 
mountain-shoulders  to  the  sky;  but  not  a 
sign  of  human  life  was  visible.  So  that  we 
both  started  when,  at  the  end  of  some  negro 
melody,  the  refrain  was  taken  up  by  a  lusty 
chorus,  and  rang  far  out  over  the  murmuring 
Tennessee.  And  in  a  few  moments  a  large 
gum  canoe  filled  with  joyous  darkies  came  to 
us  from  the  farther  shore ;  and  finding  our 
trouble,  nothing  would  do  but  they  must  pull 


ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  49 


us  ashore  and  we  spend  the  night  with 
"Massa."  Which  we  did,  and  a  kind  and 
queer  old  pair  of  gentry  we  found  them,  him 
and  his  wife,  living  alone  with  a  dozen  of  old 
freed  slaves,  some  dozen  miles  from  any 
where.  The  old,  wide,  one-story  plantation 
house  stood  in  a  clearing  facing  the  river 
(which  used  to  be  much  more  of  a  river,  with 
many  steamers  and  cotton-craft,  "befo'  de 
wo'  ")  ;  and  we  had  quite  a  concert  before 
we  went  to  bed,  with  all  the  cigars  and  other 
accompaniment  that  we  needed.  There  were 
no  young  people  in  the  house,  only  old  massa 
and  missus  and  the  old  slaves  ;  and  we  heard 
some  story  of  death  in  battle  from  the  latter, 
as  we  all  sang  a  hymn  together  before  we 
went  to  bed,  and  took  one  final  glass  of 
whiskey  ;  and  even  the  negroes  were  al 
lowed  a  taste  of  something,  for  wetting  their 
whistles  they  had  blown  so  well. 

Thus  it  was,  almost  every  night  ;  and  the 
long  days  were  spent  in  drifting  down  the 
river  ;  and  even  Coe  was  in  no  hurry  to  get 
to  the  place  where  he  was  to  survey  his  rail 
way  or  prospect  his  town  ;  and  either  the 
people  were  so  lonely,  or  their  good  will  was 
so  great,  that  they  gave  orders  for  snuff  in 
4 


50  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

a  way  that  was  surprising.  Only  one  thing 
struck  us — the  absence  of  young  people  ; 
not  only  of  young  men,  but  of  girls.  Coe 
said  he  thought  the  people  were  too  old  to 
have  any  children ;  but  what  had  become  of 
the  children  they  should  have  had  twenty 
years  ago  ?  "  War-time,"  said  Coe,  as  if 
that  explained  it. 

So  we  got  down  into  Georgia,  and  then 
into  Northern  Alabama  ;  and  the  river  wound 
so  that  we  were  two  weeks  on  the  way.  Coe 
was  to  prospect  near  a  town  called  Florence, 
or  Tuscumbia;  places  that  then  wre  never 
had  heard  of. 

That  day,  at  dawn,  we  ran  on  Muscle 
Shoals.  Fresh  from  a  night  under  the  wild- 
grape  vines,  blossoming  fragrantly,  with  a 
sweetness  troubling  to  the  spirit,  acrid, 
whereunder  we  had  slept  like  one  drugged 
with  wine — we  had  got  into  our  canoe  at 
sunrise  or  before,  and  pushed  out  into  the 
stream.  It  lay  broad  and  still  and  shimmer 
ing — so  broad  that  we  ought  to  have  noticed 
its  two  or  three  miles  of  surface  could  scarce 
cover  but  three  or  four  inches  of  depth.  But 
our  eyelids  were  heavy  with  the  wild  grape — 
as  if  its  breath  had  been  some  soul  phantasm 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  51 

of  what  was  to  be  its  fruit — and  so  we  paddled 
dreamily  to  the  midstream  and  ran  aground. 

"  I  say  !  "  said  Coe.  But  there  was  noth 
ing  to  be  said,  and  there  we  hung,  two  miles 
from  either  shore,  and  the  sun  rose  full  up 
stream,  and  gilded  us. 

In  all  that  inland  lake  was  but  a  hand's- 
depth  of  water,  flowing  swift  and  softly  over 
sand  and  shells.  We  took  to  our  poles  ;  hard 
choosing  it  would  be  which  way  lay  deepest ; 
and,  one  at  either  end, "  Now  then ! "  from  Coe ; 
and  we  moved,  or  didn't  move,  or  for  the  most 
part  spun  around  upon  the  grinding  shells, 
and  Coe  fell  out  of  the  boat  and  splashed 
shallowly  upon  his  back  upon  the  sand. 

So  all  that  day  we  labored ;  and  the  sun 
grew  hot,  so  that  Coe  at  noon  sought  wading 
for  the  shore  to  some  shelter  in  the  wild 
grapes ;  but  that,  half  a  stone's-throw  from 
the  white  clay  bank  ran  swiftly  some  two 
fathoms  deep  of  river  Tennessee.  So  he 
came  back  and  swore,  and  I  laughed;  and 
we  set  at  it  again.  Meantime  the  slow,  deep- 
laden  scows,  each  with  an  appetizing  tent  for 
shade,  spun  downward  close  under  that  vine- 
shaded  bank  and  jeered  at  us. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  raw-handed  from  the 


52  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

poles  and  raw  in  visage  from  a  straight-down 
sun,  we  got  away.  Still  breathless,  burning, 
we  too  swung  down  the  smooth  stream,  nar 
rower,  though  still  a  half-mile  wide  ;  here  it 
ran  in  curves  by  bold  cliff-points  castel 
lated  into  white,  vine-garlanded  turrets  of  the 
strangely  worn  and  carven  limestone.  No 
Ehine  could  be  so  beautiful ;  for  here  all 
was  unprofaned,  silent,  houseless,  lined  by 
neither  road  nor  rail. 

The  sun  was  nearly  setting,  and  Coe's  soul 
turned  to  beauty,  and  again  he  began  to  mar 
vel  at  the  want  of  womankind.  No  country 
was  visible  behind  the  river-banks  ;  and  he 
stood  up  and  studied  carefully  the  shore 
through  his  field-glass. 

"I  think  this  is  the  spot,"  he  said. 

"  Tuscumbia?  "  said  I.  But  Coe  was  rapt 
in  study  of  the  river-bank. 

"  Do  you  see  her  ?  "  said  I,  louder. 

Suddenly  Coe  turned  to  me  in  some  ex 
citement.  "Paddle  hard— I  think  it's  the 
place."  And  seizing  his  bow  paddle  he 
drove  it  into  the  stream  so  deep  that  had  I 
not  steadied  the  craft  she  had  rolled  over. 
Englishmen  can  never  get  used  to  inani 
mate  objects  ;  deft  is  not  their  word. 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  53 

So  we  rounded,  always  approaching  the 
shore,  a  bold  promontory  ;  in  four  successive 
terraces  three  hundred  feet  of  ranged  lime 
stone  towers  rose  loftily,  adorned  with  moss, 
and  vines,  and  myrtle-ivy,  their  bases  veiled 
in  a  grand  row  of  gum-trees  lining  the  shore. 
No  Kheinstein  ever  was  finer,  and  as  we 
turned  one  point,  a  beautiful  rich-foliaged  ra 
vine  came  down  to  meet  us,  widening  at  the 
river  to  a  little  park  of  green  and  wild  flow 
ers,  walled  on  both  sides  by  the  castled  cliffs  ; 
in  the  centre  the  most  unsullied  spring  I  have 
ever  seen.  And  all  about,  no  sign  of  man ;  no 
house,  or  smoke,  or  road,  or  track,  or  trail. 

"  This  is  it,"  said  Coe  again,  as  the  canoe 
grated  softly  on  the  dazzling  sand,  and  he 
prepared  to  leap  ashore. 

"  What,"  said  I,  "  Tuscumbia  ?  "  For  there 
is  a  legend  of  this  place ;  and  of  Tuscumbia, 
the  great  chieftain,  and  the  Indian  maiden, 
and  their  trysting  by  the  silent  spring. 

"  No,"  said  he  ;  "  Sheffield.  That  gorge  is 
the  only  easy  grade  to  the  river  for  many 
miles.  Through  it  we  shall  put  our  railroad, 
and  this  flat  will  do  for  terminal  facilities — 
eh ! "  and  he  leaped  clumsily ;  for  the  loud 
report  of  a  shot-gun  broke  the  air  and  the 


54  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

charge  whisked  almost  about  our  ears,  and 
flashed  a  hundred  yards  behind  us  in  the 
Tennessee. 

"With,  one  accord  we  ran  up  the  ravine. 
There  was  no  path,  and  the  heavy  vines  and 
briers  twined  about  our  legs,  and  the  tree- 
trunks  of  the  Middle  Ages  still  lay  greenly, 
but  when  we  sought  to  clamber  over  them, 
collapsed  and  let  us  to  their  punky  middles. 

Suddenly,  as  we  rounded  a  bend  between 
two  gloomy  ravages  of  rock,  there  stood  be 
fore  us  a  young  girl,  in  the  green  light — her 
hair  as  black  as  I  had  ever  seen,  with  such  a 
face  of  white  and  rose  !  I  stared  at  her  help 
lessly  ;  Coe,  I  think,  cowered  behind  me. 
She  looked  at  us  inquiringly  a  moment;  and 
then,  as  we  neither  spoke,  turned  up  the  side 
of  the  ravine,  with  her  fowling-piece,  and 
vanished  by  some  way  unknown  to  us.  I 
would  have  followed  her,  I  think,  but  Coe 
held  me  back  by  the  coat-tails. 

"  Don't,"  said  he.  "  She's  quite  welcome 
to  a  shot,  I  am  siire." 


IV  TEVEBTHELESS,  after  this  one  mo- 
i  N  ment  of  chivalrous  impulse,  Coe  set  up 
his  levelling-machine  and  began  taking  the 
gradients  of  the  ravine  up  which  this  girl  had 
gone.  I  have  never  known  an  Englishman 
upon  whose  heart  you  could  make  any  im 
pression  until  his  stomach  was  provided  for. 
Meantime  I  wandered  on,  admiring  the  red 
hibiscus  blossom  and  liana  vine  that  veiled 
the  gorge  in  tropical  luxuriance  up  to  the 
myrtles  of  the  limestone.  Finally  I  emerged 
upon  the  plateau  above  the  river,  and  found 
myself  in  a  glorious,  green,  flowing  prairie, 
many  miles  broad  and  apparently  as  long  as 
the  brown  Tennessee  that  lay  hid  behind  me. 
In  the  midst  of  it  one  iron-furnace  was  al 
ready  in  blast. 

The  inn  (the  International  Hotel)  at  Tus- 
cumbia  was  very  noisy.  I  was  struck  by  this 
when  I  went  to  my  room  to  dress  for  sup- 


56  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

per ;  I  had  only  been  able  to  get  one  room 
for  myself  and  Coe ;  there  were  two  beds  in 
it,  but  only  one  wash-stand.  Through  the 
walls,  which  were  very  thin,  I  could  hear  at 
least  four  distinct  feminine  voices  on  the  one 
side,  and  several  upon  the  other.  There  were 
also  some  across  the  hall  that  seemed  to  be 
engaged  in  the  same  conversation ;  and  that 
the  speakers  were  young  ladies  I  had  fleet 
ing  but  satisfactory  evidence  when  I  opened 
my  door  to  set  out  my  water-jug  for  a  fur 
ther  supply. 

"Look  here,  young  man,"  said  the  land 
lord  to  me,  when  I  again  endeavored  to  get 
another  room  for  Coe.  "How  many  rooms 
do  you  reckon  this  yer  house  11  hold,  with 
fifty-seven  guests  all  wan  tin'  em  ?  " 

"  Fifty-seven  !  "  said  I.  The  International 
Hotel  was  a  small  two-story  wooden  house 
with  a  portico.  "  How  many  can  the  hotel 
accommodate  ?  " 

"  Thirty  in  winter,"  said  the  landlord.  "  In 
summer  sixty  to  seventy." 

I  stared  at  the  man  until  he  explained. 

"  You  see,  in  the  winter,  they's  most  from 
the  North.  I  hev  accommodated  seventy - 
four,"  added  he,  meditatively ;  "but  they  wuz 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  57 

all  Southerners,  an'  that  wuz  befo'  the  wo'. 
They  took  a  good  bar'l  of  whiskey  a  day, 
they  did — an'  consid'able  Bo'bon,"  and  he 
ended  with  a  sigh. 

"  Your  present  visitors  seem  chiefly  young 
ladies,"  I  hazarded. 

"  Hevn't  you  heard  ?  "  and  mine  host  looked 
at  me  as  if  to  reassure  himself  as  to  my  social 
position.  "  They  is  society  folks  from  Knox- 
ville — down  here  givin'  a  play — '  The  Pirates 
of  Penzance,' "  and  he  handed  me  a  news 
paper  wherein  he  pointed  to  a  double-leaded 
announcement  setting  forth  that  the  well- 
known  Amateur  Shakespeare  Comedy  Club 
of  Knoxville,  consisting  of  ladies  and  gentle 
men  of  the  upper  social  circles  of  that  city, 
would  appear  in  this  well-known  opera,  the 
article  closing  with  a  tribute  to  the  personal 
charms  of  Miss  Birdie  McClung,  the  princi 
pal  member  of  the  company. 

"  They  hev  come  down  in  a  Pullman  cyar, 
all  to  themselves,  quite  special,"  said  the  inn 
keeper. 

"Are  any  of  them  married,  Colonel  Kip- 
person  ?  "  said  I,  timidly. 

The  colonel  looked  at  me  with  scorn  ;  and 
just  then  a  peal  of  rippling  laughter,  melodi- 


58  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

ous  as  the  waves  of  the  Tennessee  upon  Mus 
cle  Shoals,  rang  through  the  thin  partition, 
accompanied  by  the  crash  of  some  falling 
missile,  I  think,  a  hair-brush. 

"Does  that  look  as  if  they  wuz  married?" 
said  he,  and  turned  upon  his  heel,  as  one 
who  gave  me  up  at  last.  "  Supper's  at  six," 
he  added,  relenting,  at  the  door. 

Coe  turned  up  at  supper,  but  we  saw  noth 
ing  of  the  fair  actresses ;  and  the  evening  we 
passed  socially  with  the  leading  spirits  of 
the  hotel :  Judge  Hankinson,  Colonel  Wil 
kinson,  General  McBride,  Tim  Healy,  the 
railroad  contractor,  and  two  or  three  black 
bottles.  Colonel  Wilkinson  and  General 
McBride  had  been  trying  a  case  before 
Judge  Hankinson,  and  both  were  disposed 
to  criticise  the  latter's  rulings,  but  amiably, 
as  became  gentlemen  over  a  whiskey -bottle 
in  the  evening.  At  midnight,  just  as  the 
judge  was  ordering  a  fourth  bottle,  the  door 
opened,  and  in  walked  a  very  beautiful 
young  woman  with  black  hair  and  eyes. 
"  Good-evening,  Miss  Juliet,"  said  the  oth 
ers,  as  we  rose  and  bowed. 

Miss  Juliet  walked  up  to  the  judge,  who 
with  difficulty  got  up,  and  followed  her  out 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  59 

of  the  room.  "Good-night,  jedge,"  and  in 
the  pause  that  followed,  General  McBride 
remarked  pathetically  that  "the  jedge  wasn't 
what  he  used  to  wuz." 

"  No,"  said  the  colonel,  with  a  sigh,  "  'Ive 
seen  the  time  when  he  wouldn't  leave  a  third 
bottle  of  his  own." 

"  What  relation  is  Miss  Juliet  to  Judge 
Wilkinson  ?  "  asked  Coe. 

The  general  and  the  colonel  started ;  and 
Tim  Healy  looked  apprehensively  at  the  door. 

"  Young  man,"  said  the  general,  "  I  wouldn't 
ask  that  question,  if  I  wuz  you." 

"  The  jedge  ken  still  shoot,"  added  the 
colonel. 

All  was  forgiven  when  I  had  explained 
that  Mr.  Coe  was  an  Englishman;  and  we 
went  to  bed.  About  two  in  the  morning  the 
adjoining  rooms  became  suddenly  populous 
with  soft  voices.  Coe  started  to  his  elbow 
in  his  cot  and  called  to  me.  "It's  only  the 
Amateur  Shakespeare  Comedy  Club  of  Knox- 
ville,  returning  from  the  play,"  said  I ;  and 
I  dropped  asleep  and  dreamed  confusedly 
of  Tuscumbia,  the  Indian  chieftain,  feminine 
voices,  and  the  rippling  waters  of  the  Ten 
nessee. 


60  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

In  the  morning  I  got  into  the  train  for 
Chattanooga,  leaving  Coe  behind.  On  the 
platform  I  noticed  two  graceful  girls,  dressed 
in  white  muslin,  wide  straw  hats  with  white 
satin  ribbon  and  sashes,  white  lace  mitts,  and 
thick  white  veils ;  not  so  thick  that  I  could 
not  see  that  they  were  brunettes,  with  hair 
as  black  as  only  grows  under  Southern 
nights.  The  train  was  composed  of  two 
cars — the  ordinary  Southern  local — differing 
from  a  Jersey  accommodation  only  in  that  it 
had  still  more  peanut  shells  and  an  added 
touch  of  emigrant-train  and  circus.  At  one 
end  sat  a  tall  gentleman  in  a  stovepipe  hat, 
who  had  removed  his  boots,  and  was  taking 
his  ease  in  blue  woollen  stockings.  At  the 
other  was  a  poor,  pretty  woman,  with  large, 
sad  eyes,  petting  her  emaciated  husband, 
who  was  dying  of  consumption.  Just  as 
the  train  started,  he  had  a  terrible  fit  of 
coughing  ;  now  he  leans  his  head  upon  her 
shoulder,  and  she  rests  her  cheek  upon 
his  forehead.  Behind  me,  but  across  the 
aisle,  are  the  two  young  ladies  in  white 
muslin. 

So  we  jangle  on  through  the  hot  Southern 
June  morning ;  and  pretty  soon  one  of  the 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  61 

girls  in  white  comes  over  and  takes  the  seat 
behind  me.  She  has  thrown  off  her  veil, 
and  I  assure  you  a  more  beautiful  face  I 
never  saw ;  it's  all  very  well  to  talk  of  a  neck 
like  a  lily  and  cheeks  like  a  rose,  and  eyes 

"  "Whose  depths  unravel  the  coiled  night 
And  see  the  stars  at  noon " 

but  when  you  really  see  them  you  fall  down 
and  worship  the  aggregation  whose  invento 
ried  details,  in  any  novel,  would  excite  weari 
ness.  Meantime,  her  sister  had  stretched 
herself  out  upon  the  other  seat,  pointing 
one  dainty  russet  leather  foot  beneath  the 
muslin,  and  disposed  her  handkerchief  across 
her  eyes. 

How  to  speak  to  this  fair  beauty  so  close 
behind  me  I  know  not ;  I  can  almost  feel  her 
eyes  in  the  back  of  my  head ;  so  near  that  I 
dare  not  look  round ;  I  fear  she  may  be  an 
other  daughter  of  Judge  Wilkinson's.  And 
the  train  jangles  on,  and  we  are  winding 
through  green  dense  forests,  up  to  the  moun 
tains.  I  wait  half  an  hour  for  propriety,  and 
then  look  around ;  I  catch  her  deep  eyes  full, 
"  bows  on,"  as  it  were,  her  lips  parted  as  if 


62  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

almost  to  speak,  and  I — shrink  back  in  con 
fusion.  I  hear  her  give  a  little  sound, 
whether  a  sigh  or  a  murmur  I  am  not  sure  ; 
but  pretty  soon  I  hear  her  struggling  with 
her  window.  This  is  my  chance  ;  and  I  rise 
and  with  the  politest  bow  I  know  and  "  per 
mit  me,"  I  seek  to  help  her;  but  the  sash  is 
old  and  grimed  and  the  angle  inconvenient. 
Finally  I  have  to  go  around  into  her  seat ; 
and  leaning  over  her  I  get  a  purchase  and 
the  window  goes  up  with  a  bang  and  a  cloud 
of  dust  that  sets  us  both  sneezing.  "It  is 
very  hot,"  I  say,  standing  with  my  hand  upon 
her  seat,  irresolute. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  thought  you  were  never 
going  to  speak  ?  "  she  says. 

I  sit  down  on  the  seat  beside  her. 

"  I  hate  being  unsociable  in  a  railway  jour 
ney  ;  but,  of  course,  I  couldn't  speak  first. 
And  now  there's  so  little  time  left,"  she  adds, 
regretfully. 

"Where  are  you  going — not  to  Chatta 
nooga  ?  " 

"  Only  to  Scott's  Plains.  What's  your 
name  ?  " 

"  Horatio  Higginbotham,"  I  have  to  reply, 
fearing  she  will  laugh,  though  the  name  is 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  63 

well  known  in  Salem.  She  does  not  laugh 
at  all,  but  smiles  divinely. 

"  My  name  is  Jeanie  Bruce.  And  that's 
my  sister  May.  Come  over,  and  I'll  intro 
duce  you." 

We  walk  across  the  car  and  Miss  Jeanie 
says  to  Miss  May  (who,  it  appears,  is  not 
asleep),  "  May,  I  want  to  introduce  to  you 
my  friend,  Mr.  Higginbotham.  Mr.  Higgin- 
botham,  Miss  May  Bruce." 

I  bow  to  the  more  languid  beauty,  who 
does  not  rise,  but  smiles  a  twin  sister  of 
Miss  Jeanie's  smile,  showing  her  little  white 
teeth  and  tapping  her  little  foot  in  a  way  to 
make  a  man  distracted  which  to  look  at. 

"  I  thought  you  didn't  seem  to  be  getting 
on  very  well,"  says  the  recumbent  May,  "but 
now,  I  suppose,  I  can  go  to  sleep,"  and  she 
pulls  the  lace  handkerchief  back  over  her 
eyes,  and  Jeanie  leads  me  (it  is  the  word) 
back  to  our  seat  on  the  other  side  of  the  car. 
"  We  are  twin  sisters  ;  and  some  people  can't 
tell  one  from  the  other.  Could  you  ?  "  And 
she  takes  off  her  hat,  pushes  the  soft  black 
mass  back  from  her  brow,  and  looks  at  me, 
frankly,  sweetly. 

"  I  shouldn't  want  to,"  I  say.     I  think  I 


64  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

am  getting  on ;  but  she  looks  at  me  as  if 
puzzled,  half  displeased. 

"May  is  engaged,"  she  answers,  "and  I 
am  not.  I  have  been,  though." 

"  Dear  me,"  I  answer,  heedlessly  ;  "  how 
old— 

"  Seventeen.  But  I  never  had  a  gen'le- 
man  ask  me  such  a  question  before." 

She  is  silent ;  I  speechless.  Yet  I  wish 
she  would  pronounce  the  t  in  "gentleman." 
She  does  not  bear  malice  long,  but  asks 
"where  I  come  from?  " 

"  Boston,"  I  say ;  "  and  I  am  twenty-three." 

She  laughs  merrily,  in  forgiveness,  with 
a  dear,  lovable,  quick  sense  of  humor.  Then 
she  scans  me  curiously.  "  I  never  saw  a 
gen'leman  from  Boston  before." 

"There  are  some  there,"  I  answer,  hum 
bly. 

"  Of  course  wre  see  plenty  of  commercial 
travellers,"  she  says,  and  the  conversation 
languishes.  I  look  out  the  window,  for  sug 
gestions,  at  the  tall  mountain  timber  and  the 
bearded  gray  moss.  It  suggests  nothing  but 
partridges. 

"But  you  have  not  yet  told  me  whether 
you  can  tell  us  apart." 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  65 

Thus  challenged,  I  bring  my  eyes  to  hers  ; 
there  is  something  dazzling  about  them  that 
always  makes  it  hard  to  see  her  face,  except 
when  she  is  looking  away  ;  my  eyes  wander 
not  from  hers,  until  she  does  look  away — out 
the  window — and  I  suddenly  see  something 
familiar  in  the  face. 

"  Is  there  much  shooting  about  here  ?  "  I 
ask,  abruptly,  meaning  game. 

"Yes,  there  is  a  terrible  deal.  Why,  my 
cousin,  Kirk  Bruce,  was  only  eighteen  when 
he  shot  and  killed  another  gen'leman  at 
school." 

"  Dear  me,  I  didn't  mean  men,"  I  say.  "I 
meant  quail  and  partridges.  And  I  thought 
I  had  seen  you  yesterday  with  a  shot-gun 
down  in  that  green  bottom  by  the  Tennessee. 
It  might  have  been  men,  though ;  for  your 
shot  whistled  about  the  ears  of  my  friend, 
Mr.  Coe." 

"  I  wondered  you  didn't  remember  me  when 
you  got  upon  the  train,"  answers  Jeanie. 
"Where  is  Mr.  Coe?" 

"He  stayed  behind  at  Sheffield,"  I  say. 
"Do  you  belong  to  the  'Pirates  of  Pen- 
zance ' ?  " 

"Mercy,    no — they're    city    people     from 


66  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

Knoxville — we've  only  spent  two  winters 
there  getting  our  education  in  music." 

"  Is  Knoxville  a  musical  city  ?  " 

"  The  advantages  there  are  considered  ex 
ceptional.  We  were  at  the  Convent  of  Sacre- 
Coeur." 

"  At  the  convent  ?  "  I  ask. 

"  All  our  best  schools  are  the  convents,  you 
know,  for  us  girls.  At  Sacre-Cceur  we  have 
instruction  from  Signer  Mancini.  I  have 
learned  seventeen  pieces,  but  May  knows 
twenty -four  and  two  duets." 

"  Sonatas  ?  "  I  say.  "  Concertos  ?  Chop 
in  ?  Beethoven  ?  " 

Miss  Bruce  shakes  her  head.  "  No,"  she 
answers,  with  some  pride.  "  Our  music  is 
all  operatic.  Of  course,  I  can  play  '  The 
Monastery  Bells '  and  '  The  Shepherd's 
Dream  ; '  but  now  I'm  learning  '  II  Trova- 
tore.'  My  sister  can  play  a  concert-piece 
upon  '  La  Cenerentola.'  ' 

"  What  else  do  you  learn  ?  " 

"  French — and  dancing — and  embroidery. 
But  I  suppose  you  are  terribly  learned,"  and 
Miss  Jeanie  takes  a  wide  and  searching  gaze 
of  my  poor  countenance  with  her  beautiful 
soft  eyes. 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  67 

"  Not  at  all.  I  am  a  commercial  trav 
eller,"  I  say  to  justify  my  blushes.  It  was 
malicious  of  me  ;  for  she  looks  pained. 

"  Nearly  all  our  young  gen'lemen  have  got 
to  go  into  business  since  the  war.  My  cousin 
Bruce " 

(There  was  an  inimitable  condescension  in 
her  accent  of  the  "  our.") 

"  The  one  who  shot  the  other  boy  at 
school  ?  Don't  you  think  you  have  too 
much  of  that  kind  of  shooting  ?  " 

"  As  a  gen'leman  he  had  to  do  it — in  self- 
defence.  Of  course,  they  were  both  very 
young  gen'lemen.  The  other  gen'leman  had 
his  revolver  out  first." 

"You  ought  not  to  carry  revolvers  so 
much." 

"  There  !  that's  just  what  I've  often  said. 
But  how  can  you  help  it  ?  " 

"I  help  it." 

"  You  don't  say  you  haven't  so  much  as  a 
pistol  with  you  ?  "  And  her  gentle  eyes  are 
so  full  open  that  in  looking  into  them  I  for 
get  my  answer. 

"  Well,  anyhow,  it  wasn't  Cousin  Kirk's 
fault.  He  didn't  have  any  revolver,  either, 
when  he  first  went  out  of  the  house ;  but  an- 


68  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

other  scholar  he  ran  up  and  made  him  take 
one.  Mother  didn't  ever  want  him  to  go  to 
that  school,  anyhow ;  several  of  our  family 
had  got  shot  there  before  by  this  other  boy's 
family.  This  other  boy,  you  see,  liked  a 
young  lady  Cousin  Kirk  was  attentive  to  ; 
and  he  sent  word  in  to  him  one  day  to  come 
out  of  the  school-house  to  see  him.  And  the 
other  young  gen'lemen  in  the  school,  they 
warned  Cousin  Kirk  not  to  see  him,  as  he 
wasn't  armed.  He'd  never  ought  to  have 
gone  out  unarmed.  But  he  went.  And  as 
soon  as  they  met  he  shot  Cousin  Bruce  in 
the  right  arm.  And  a  friend  that  was  with 
him  gave  Cousin  Bruce  his  pistol ;  and  he 
had  to  fire ;  and  he  killed  him  ;  and  Cousin 
Bruce  always  says  that  man's  face  haunts 
him  yet.  And  the  mother  of  the  young  man 
was  almost  crazy ;  and  afterward  she  called 
at  the  school  with  a  revolver,  dressed  in  deep 
mourning.  And  when  Cousin  Bruce  came 
into  the  parlor  he  didn't  know  who  she  was ; 
and  she  shot  at  him  through  the  crape  veil. 
But,  of  course,  she  didn't  hit  him.  And 
Cousin  Bruce  always  says  that  man's  face 
haunts  him  yet." 

(I  have  endeavored  to  set  down  this  con- 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  CO 

versation  just  as  it  happened.  At  the  time 
I  did  not  know  at  all  what  to  make  of  Miss 
Jeanie  Bruce.  I  had  seen  no  girls  like  her 
in  Salem,  or  even  Boston.  Her  English  was 
poor,  her  education  deficient,  her  manners 
free.  On  all  these  points  she  was  about  on 
a  par  with  the  shop-girls  in  Lynn.  But  she 
was  not  at  all  like  a  Lynn  shop-girl.  Had  I 
supposed  it  possible  for  there  to  be  any 
ladies  except  according  to  the  Salem  and 
Boston  standards,  I  should  have  set  her 
down  for  a  lady  at  the  time.) 

Here  we  arrived  at  Decatur,  where  I  had 
the  pleasure  of  taking  the  two  Misses  Bruce 
into  dinner,  in  a  hotel  built  alongside  of  the 
railroad  track,  as  the  principal  street  of  the 
town.  In  the  long  dining-room  were  six 
transverse  tables,  over  everyone  of  which 
was  a  huge  wooden  fan  like  the  blade  of  a 
paddle.  The  six  fans  were  connected  to 
gether,  and  at  the  back  of  the  room  a  small 
bare-footed  negro  swung  the  entire  outfit  to 
and  fro  by  means  of  a  long  pole  like  a  boat- 
hook  ;  and  with  a  great  swish  !  swish  !  dis 
turbed  in  regular  oscillations  the  clouds  of 
flies.  Miss  Jeanie  took  off  the  lace  mitts 
at  the  dinner  -  table,  and  upon  one  forefin- 


70  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

ger  of  her  pretty  white  hand  I  noticed  a 
ring — a  single  band  of  gold  setting  a  small 
ruby. 

When  we  got  back  into  the  cars  and  May 
had  gone  to  sleep  again,  I  reproached  Jeanie 
with  telling  me  she  was  not  engaged.  "I, 
too,  was  going  to  spend  this  winter  at  Knox 
ville,  and  I  had  hoped  to  see  something  of 
yon." 

"I  am  not  engaged,"  said  Miss  Jeanie. 
"  The  ring  was  given  me  by  a  gen'leman,  but 
I  do  not  care  for  him  at  all.  I  only  promised 
to  wear  it  a  few  weeks,  because  he  bothered 
so.  I'll  tell  you  what,"  she  said,  "  to  show  I 
don't  care  for  him  and  remind  you  to  be  sure 
and  call,  I'll  give  it  to  you." 

I  was  in  some  surprise,  you  may  sup 
pose.  "But  I  can't  take  a  gentleman's 
ring " 

"  It's  my  ring,  I  tell  you,"  said  Miss  Jeanie. 
"  And  if  you  don't  take  it,  I  shan't  believe 
you're  coming  to  see  me,  and  I  won't  give 
you  my  address — there  !  " 

What  could  I  do  ?     I  took  the  ring. 

When  I  got  that  night  to  Knoxville,  I 
wrote  at  once  to  Jerry  Sullivan.  If  they  had 
spent  two  winters  in  Knoxville,  he  might 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  71 

have  met  them,  or,  at  least,  known  something 

about  them. 

"  KNOXVILLE,  June  30,  188 — 

"  DEAR  JERRY  :  Tell  me  all  you  know  about 
Miss  Jeanie  Bruce. 

"  Yours, 

"H.  HlGGINBOTHAM." 

To  which  the  answer  came  by  telegram  : 

"  H.  HIGGINBOTHAM,  Knoxville  : 
"It  would  take  too  long. 

"  SULLIVAN." 


3. 


I  HAD  deferred  my  call  upon  Miss  Bruce 
until  I  should  receive  Sullivan's  answer  to 
my  letter ;  but  when  his  telegram  came  I  was 
in  a  quandary.  It  struck  me  as  ambiguous. 
And  what  could  be  the  extreme  haste  that 
made  a  telegram  advisable?  Or,  perhaps, 
was  the  whole  thing  only  one  of  Jerry  Sulli 
van's  jokes  ? 

Meantime  I  was  wearing  Miss  Jeanie 
Bruce's  ring.  Once  it  struck  me  that  if  I 
did  not  mean  to  call  upon  her,  I  ought  to 
send  it  back.  But  I  did  mean  to  call  upon 
her.  There  never  was  any  question  about 
that,  from  the  first.  I  did  not  in  the  least 
approve  of  her,  but  I  meant  to  call  upon  her, 
if  only  to  tell  her  so.  Her  conversation  had 
revealed  a  certain  indifference  to  human  life, 
but  she  had  very  soft  and  gentle  eyes.  Like 
the  face  of  the  boy  whom  Cousin  Kirk  had 
shot,  they  "  haunted  me  yet." 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  73 

Coe  noticed  my  ring.  Oddly  enough, 
though  a  foreigner,  he  had  got  into  the  ways 
of  the  people  quicker  than  I  had ;  and  I  saw 
him  looking  at  it  one  day,  though  he  said 
nothing.  That  is,  nothing  of  the  ring ;  he 
did  ask  me  whether  I  had  been  to  see  Miss 
Bruce.  So  I  went ;  they  boarded  in  a  small 
frame  house  that  belonged  to  a  Mrs.  Judge 
Pennoyer.  I  suspect  it  was  this  female  jus 
tice  who  came  to  the  door  ;  it  was  a  Monday 
afternoon  and  the  house  was  odorous  with 
soup ;  but  Miss  Jeanie  was  "  very  much  en 
gaged."  The  Friday  following  she  was  out, 
and  Wednesday  I  met  her  walking  on  the  prin 
cipal  street  of  Knoxville  with  a  tall  young  man. 

"  Try  Saturday,"  said  Coe  that  evening. 
"I  want  you  to  ask  those  girls  for  my  trip 
up  over  the  line."  During  the  summer,  Coe 
had  got  some  rusty  rails  spiked  upon  his 
right  of  way  ;  and  now  wished  to  invite  the 
youths  and  ladies  of  Tennessee  to  run  over 
them  in  a  trial  trip. 

That  day  I  found  Miss  Jeanie  alone  in  the 
parlor,  almost  as  if  awaiting  me.  "  I  began 
to  think  you  had  forgotten  us,"  said  she, 
softly.  Dear  me,  how  soft  her  eyes  were !  I 
said  that  I  had  called  there  many  times. 


74  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

'  You  could  scarcely  expect  me  to  let  you 
in  when  another  gen'lemaii  was  here  !  "  said 
she.  "  Especially  when —  "  I  saw  her  look 
at  the  ring  ;  but  she  checked  herself.  My  af 
ternoon  calls  in  Salem  had  not  so  exclusive 
ly  monopolized  the  lady's  attention,  and  I 
looked  at  her,  puzzled.  Just  then  the  front 
door-bell  rang ;  and  I  was  confident  I  heard 
Mrs.  Judge  Pennoyer  tell  someone  that  Miss 
Jeanie  "  was  very  much  engaged." 

My  conversation  languished.  I  think  that 
Miss  Bruce  was  disappointed.  "  Shall  I 
play  to  you  ?  "  I  saw  her  hesitate  between 
"  The  Shepherd  Boy "  and  a  romance  of 
Brinley  Richards  ;  and  I  hastened  to  reply, 
"I  would  rather  talk."— "  But  you  don't 
talk,"  cried  she.  "  But  I  look."—"  You  can 
look  while  I  play."—"  Not  so  well,"  said  I.— 
"  I  have  a  new  piece — one  they  sent  me 
from  the  convent,  the  Sacre-Cceur,  you  know, 
where  I  was  for  some  years.  It  is  called  the 
'  Tears  of  Love.'  The  musical  instruction  of 
the  convent  was  very  good.  Sister  Ignatia 
had  studied  in  Italy.  I  suppose  it  was  better 
than  outside — don't  you  ?  " 

I  had  never  studied  in  a  convent,  and  I 
don't  think  I  made  much  answer,  for  she 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  75 

went  on.  "  Of  course,  you  know,  it  is 
pleasanter  in  other  ways.  One  has  so  much 
more  liberty.  Yet  the  most  Kentucky  ladies 
are  all  educated  in  convents.  But  I  felt  that 
I  wished  to  see  more  of  society.  At  the 
Sacre-Cceur  they  do  not  allow  you  to  receive 
your  gen'lemen  friends  except  in  the  pres 
ence  of  the  mother  superior." 

There  was  a  freshness,  a  simplicity  of 
method  in  this  young  lady's  playing  with  the 
boys  that  quite  took  my  breath  away,  and  to 
relieve  the  situation  I  deemed  it  best  to  sub 
mit  to  the  "  Tears  of  Love."  Of  this  piece 
of  music  I  remember  little,  save  that  the 
composer  was  continually  bringing  the  left 
hand  over  the  right  to  execute  unnecessary 
arpeggios  in  the  treble  notes.  Jeanie's  girl 
ish  figure  was  so  round,  and  swayed  so  easily, 
that  I  thought  this  part  of  the  music  very 
pretty. 

Then  I  bethought  myself  of  the  object  of 
my  visit ;  and  I  invited  Miss  Jeanie  and  Miss 
May,  on  Mr.  Coe's  behalf,  to  make  the  rail 
road  trip.  A  Salem  instinct  made  me  in 
clude  Mrs.  Judge  Pennoyer ;  I  then  saw  in 
Miss  Bruce's  look  that  it  had  been  unneces 
sary.  Only  when  I  got  out  the  door  did  I 


76  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

remember  that  the  ring  had,  after  all,  been 
my  main  object ;  to  return  it,  I  mean. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  street,  along  by  a 
low  white-painted  paling,  lowered  a  heavy, 
hulking  fellow  in  a  rusty  black  frock-coat,  a 
great  deal  of  white  shirt,  and  a  black  clerical 
tie.  In  this  garb  I  recognized  the  Southern 
University  man,  and  in  the  man  I  had  a  pre 
monition  I  saw  the  redoubtable  "Cousin 
Kirk." 


4. 


was  chartered  by  the  sovereign  States 
of  Florida  and  Alabama  to  construct  his 
line  "  from  that  part  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean 
called  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  in  the  former  State," 
to  a  point  "  at  or  near  "  the  Tennessee  Kiver 
in  the  latter.  And  so  "  a  point  at  or  near  the 
Tennessee  River  "  was  the  first  object  of  our 
journey,  and  this  proved  as  definite  a  desig 
nation  as  we  could  give  it ;  though  it  had 
public  parks  and  corner  lots  and  a  name — on 
paper.  Its  name  in  reality  was  "  Cat  Island," 
the  only  native  settlement  being  on  a  beauti 
fully  wooded  island  thus  called,  midstream  in 
the  river. 

"  Wouldn't  do  to  call  it  that,  you  know," 
said  Coe,  in  a  burst  of  frankness.  "Famous 
place  for  chills  and  fever ;  everybody  born  on 
Cat  Island,  white  or  black,  turns  clay-color ! 
So  we  thought  of  Bagdad — from  its  resem 
blance  to  the  Euphrates." 


78  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

Mrs.  Judge  Pennoyer  had  come  ;  but  so 
had  a  strange  young  man  whose  name  I  found 
was  Raoul.  He  devoted  himself  to  Miss 
May  with  a  simplicity  of  purpose  amazing  to 
a  Northern  mind.  Hardly  anyone  knew  of 
the  expedition  at  Knoxville,  but  when  we 
arrived  at  Bagdad,  that  spacious  plain  was 
peopled  in  a  way  to  delight  the  speculator. 
"  Who  are  they  ?  "  I  asked  of  Coe,  puzzled 
at  his  evident  anxiety  where  I  expected  pride. 
"Who  are  they,  O  Caliph  of  Bagdad  ?  " 

"  Who  are  they  ?  The  Mesopotamians. 
Dash  it,"  he  added,  "  they've  come,  with  their 
wives  and  children,  for  the  trip." 

So,  indeed,  they  had.  Tim  Healy  met  us 
as  we  alighted  on  the  platform  of  the  old 
railroad  station — there  was,  indeed,  a  plat 
form,  but  nothing  more — and  grasping  Coe 
and  me  warmly  by  the  hand,  said  rapidly,  in 
the  latter's  ear,  "  had  to  invite  a  few  of  them, 
you  know — prominent  gen'lemen  of  the  neigh 
borhood — valuable  political  influence  " — and 
then,  aloud,  "  General  McBride,  gen'lemen. 
Mrs.  McBride.  Judge  Hankinson  I  think 
you  know.  Mr.  Coe,  I  want  you  fo'  to  know 
Senator  Langworthy ;  one  of  our  most  prom 
inent  citizens,  gen'lemen,  an'  I  had  the 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  79 

grea-at-est  difficulty  in  persuading  the  senator 
fo'  to  come  along.  I  told  him,  Mr.  Coe,  we 
could  show  him  something  of  a  railroad  al 
ready "  Coe  expressed  his  acknowledg 
ments. 

"  Sir,  it  was  a  pleasure  to  study  the  devel 
opments  of  my  country.  It  does  not  need  to 
be  a  citizen  of  Bagdad  to  appreciate  the  ad 
vantages  of  your  location,"  and  the  senator 
waved  his  hand  in  the  direction  of  a  rusty 
line  of  track  I  then  first  perceived  winding 
across  the  prairie  from  the  Tennessee.  "  Let 
me  introduce  to  you  Mrs.  Lang  worthy."  A 
pale  lady,  with  bonnet-strings  untied  and  a 
baby  at  the  breast,  was  indicated  by  the 
second  gesture  ;  she  looked  worn  and  world- 
weary,  but  I  lived  to  learn  she  had  an  en 
durance  of  hardship  Stanley  might  have  en 
vied,  and  a  relish  for  fried  cakes  and  bacon  in 
the  small  hours  of  night  that  I  am  sure  only 
an  optimist  could  feel.  "  My  partner,  Mr. 
Hanks.  My  wife's  sister,  Miss  McClung." 

By  this  time  we  were  ready  to  start.  A 
brand-new  locomotive  decorated  with  flowers 
had  backed  down  awkwardly  from  the  new- 
laid  track  to  the  junction;  and  we  entered 
what  Coe  with  some  pride  informed  me  was 


80  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

the  directors'  car.  It  contained  one  long 
saloon,  two  staterooms,  a  minute  kitchen, 
and  a  glass  gallery  behind. 

It  was  amazing  how  we  all  got  into  it ;  and 
when  we  had,  I  counted  three  babies,  seven 
old  women,  and  a  dog,  besides  some  twenty 
men.  All  had  brought  their  luncheon-bas 
kets,  and  the  babies  (except  that  appertain 
ing  unto  Mrs.  Senator  Langworthy)  were 
consoled  with  bottles.  After  a  prodigious 
deal  of  whistling,  we  were  off,  and  Bagdad 
resumed  its  quietude — at  least,  we  thought 
so  ;  but  even  then  a  distant  shouting  was 
heard,  and  Colonel  Wilkinson,  his  wife,  and 
two  urchin  boys  were  descried,  hastening 
down  the  track  from  the  direction  of  the 
Bagdad  Hotel.  Judge  Hankinson  pulled  the 
bell-cord  and  then  thrust  his  head  out  of  a 
window  and  roared  to  the  engineer.  "  Stop, 
driver,  its  Colonel  Wilkinson.  How  are  you, 
colonel  ?  "  he  added  to  that  gentleman,  who 
had  arrived,  and  was  mopping  himself  with  a 
red  silk  handkerchief,  his  wife  and  offspring 
still  some  laps  behind.  "  Almost  thought 
you'd  be  left." 

"  Great  heavens,  I  wish  he  was !  "  groaned 
Coe  in  my  ear. 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  81 

"  Never  mind,  the  judge  hasn't  brought 
Miss  Julia,"  said  Tim  Healey ;  and  this  time 
we  were  really  off. 

I  have  neither  time  nor  memory  to  de 
scribe  that  day;  though  it  was  very  funny 
while  it  lasted,  perhaps  all  the  funnier  that 
there  was  no  one  to  share  the  humor  of  it. 
Everybody  was  great  on  the  development  of 
the  country,  and  everybody  made  speeches. 
We  stopped  at  least  twenty  times  in  the  first 
fifteen  miles  to  look  at  a  seam  of  coal,  or  a 
field  of  iron,  or  a  marble  quarry  (suitable  for 
the  Alhambra  Palace  or  the  new  State  cap- 
itol,  sir),  or,  at  least,  one  of  the  most  won 
derful  mineral  springs  of  the  world — only 
waiting  the  completion  of  Colonel  Coe's  line 
of  railroad  to  become  another  Saratoga.  At 
all  these  places  we  got  off  the  train,  and  went 
in  a  long,  straggling,  irregular  file  to  inspect, 
Mrs.  Senator  Langworthy  ruthlessly  inter 
rupting  the  repast  of  her  youngest-born  at 
such  moments,  and  leaving  him  upon  a  car- 
seat  in  charge  of  the  fireman.  At  the  quarry 
or  mineral  spring  the  proprietor  would  take 
his  turn  in  making  a  little  stump  speech, 
standing  on  the  edge  and  gesticulating  into 
the  pool,  while  the  rest  of  us  stood  grouped 
6 


82  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

around  the  margin.  Meantime  Miss  May 
Bruce  and  Raoul  would  go  to  walk  in  the 
woods  ;  and  we  would  hear  the  engine  whist 
ling  wildly  for  us  to  return.  It  was  a  novel 
interruption  to  a  flirtation,  that  railway- 
whistle  ;  but  everybody  looked  upon  us  ami 
ably  as  we  hurried  down  to  the  track ;  live 
and  let  live,  and  take  your  time  for  happiness  ; 
no  schedule  time,  as  at  Salem. 

By  the  hot  noon  we  were  above  the  river 
valley  and  winding  up  the  folds  of  fir-for 
est  that  clothed  the  shaggy  shoulders  of 
the  mountain.  Engine  No.  100  puffed  and 
strained,  and  reeled  up  before  us  like  a 
drunken  man.  We  had  had  our  dinner  ;  the 
sexes  began  to  separate,  and  even  the  Lang- 
worthy  baby  went  to  sleep.  Raoul  and  May 
were  riding  on  the  engine.  I  left  Miss  Jeanie 
Bruce  and  joined  the  gentlemen,  who  were 
sitting  cross-legged  and  contented  in  the 
smoking  end  of  the  car,  from  the  glass-housed 
platform  of  which  we  looked  already  back 
upon  the  great  central  plain  from  the  rising 
Appalachians. 

"  Oh,  it's  a  glorious  country,"  said  "  Col 
onel  "  Coe  ;  and,  I  think,  winked  at  me. 

"  Why,  senator,"  said  the  judge,  "  I  have 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  S3 

seen  a  corner-lot  sold  at  Bagdad  six  times 
in  one  day,  'n  a  thousan'  dollars  higher  every 
time." 

"  General,"  said  the  senator,  "  do  you  know 
what  the  original  purchase  of  the  Bagdad 
Land  and  Investment  Company  aggregated 
— for  the  whole  eighteen  hundred  acres  ?  " 

There  was  a  silence.  Everybody  looked  at 
me.  It  dawned  upon  me  that  I  was  the 
"general,"  and  I  wondered  why  I  ranked 
poor  Coe. 

"  I've  no  idea,"  I  hastened  to  add  ;  fearing 
the  senator  had  followed  Coe's  wink. 

"  Thirty  thousand  dollars,"  answered  Gen 
eral  McBride,  as  if  it  were  a  game  of  "  School 
teacher."  "  And  they  sold  three  hundred 
acres  for " 

"Fifteen  hundred  thousand  dollars,"  re 
sumed  Judge  Hankinson,  with  intense  so 
lemnity. 

"  Paper  ?"  said  Tim  Healy. 

"Cash,  Captain  Healy,"  said  the  judge, 
fiercely,  "cash." 

"  I  want  to  know  ! — Was  that  the  lot  you 
bought  of  Widow  Enraghty,  judge  ?  " 

A  roar  of  laughter  greeted  Tim's  answer. 
People  tipped  back  their  chairs,  slapping 


84  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

their  thighs  ;  the  Langworthy  baby  woke  up 
and  cried,  and  even  the  judge  screwed  up  his 
whiskey-softened  old  face  in  vain. 

"Tell  us  about  it,  judge,"  said  Raoul,  who 
had  come  back  from  the  engine  and  was  peer 
ing  over  our  shoulders.  "  I'm  a  young  law 
yer,  and  I  want  to  know  these  tricks." 

"Young  man,"  said  the  judge,  "I'll  tell 
you,  and  let  it  be  a  warning  to  you  when 
you're  married,  to  be  honest  and  say  so" 
(Eaoul  blushed  violently).  "  The  fact  was, 
I  had  been  acquainted  with  the  widow  En- 
raghty  more  than  fifty  years — her  husband 
had  got  killed  in  the  forties,  an'  she  was 
sixty-five  if  she  was  a  day,  and  she  owned 
that  valuable  corner  lot  opposite  the  new 
Court-house  and  by  the  building  of  the  Board 
of  Trade."  ("  Not  built  yet,"  whispered  Coe 
to  me.)  "  I'd  been  dickering  with  her  for 
weeks  ;  but  I  stood  at  four  thousand,  and  she 
wanted  five.  Now  I  rode  up  that  morning  (it 
was  a  fine  day  ;  warm  and  spring-like,  and  I 
felt  rather  sanguine)  and  I  said,  '  "What's 
your  price,  Mrs.  Enraghty,  to-day  ?  '  '  Six 
thousand,'  said  she.  This  raise  made  me 
kind  o'  nervous,  an'  I  got  rash.  'I'll  give 
you  three  thousand,'  said  I,  '  cash.'  '  Here's 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  85 

your  deed/  says  Widow  Enraglity.  And  I 
declare  she  had  it  all  ready.  I  looked  at  it 
carefully ;  it  seemed  all  right,  and  I  paid  her 
the  money.  I  kinder  noticed  there  was  a 
young  fellow  sittin'  in  the  room.  Well,  sir !  " 

"  Well,  judge  ?  "  The  judge's  manner  grew 
impressive. 

"  Next  week  that  young  fellow — Bill  Pepper 
he  was,  an'  he  was  just  twenty-one — he 
brought  an  ejectment  against  me.  She  had 
married  him  that  morning.  So  Bill  Pepper 
kep'  the  land,  and  Mrs.  Pepper  kep'  the 
money." 

In  the  laughter  that  followed  I  became 
conscious  of  Kaoul  pinching  my  arm  mys 
teriously.  "I  want  a  word  with  you  in  pri 
vate,"  said  he.  "  Would  you  mind  coming  out 
upon  the  cow-catcher?  It's  been  railed  off 
on  purpose  for  observation,"  he  added,  an 
swering  my  look  of  amazement,  "  and  it's  a 
first-rate  place  to  see  the  cobweb  trestle  from. 
It's  something  about  the  young  ladies,"  he 
added,  seeing  that  I  still  hesitated,  "  and 
there's  really  no  other  place." 

I  looked  through  the  car,  but  perceived 
the  ladies  were  sitting  in  earnest  conclave. 
On  the  front  platform  Mrs.  Langworthy  and 


86  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

the  baby  were  taking  the  air.  In  the  cab  of 
the  engine  were  the  two  girls.  I  suppose  I 
made  a  gesture  of  assent,  for  Raoul  nodded 
to  the  engineer,  who  slowed  to  a  halt  that  al 
most  threw  the  Lang  worthy's  domestic  group 
into  the  bed  of  a  brawling  mountain  stream 
some  three  hundred  feet  below. 

"  These  gen'lemen  want  to  ride  on  the 
pilot,"  shouted  the  engineer  in  explanation ; 
and  we  took  our  way  to  that  exalted  perch, 
where,  sitting  cross-legged  and  with  hands 
nervously  gripping  the  rail,  I  listened  to 
Raoul's  story. 

The  Misses  Bruce,  he  said,  were  wild  not 
to  go  back  that  day  with  the  railroad  party, 
but  to  drive  to  the  end  of  the  location  through 
the  woods. 

"  Great  Heavens  !  "  said  I,  "  but  only  Coo 
and  I  are  going,  with  Captain  Healy.  There 
is  nothing  but  tents — 

"  The  ladies  are  used  to  camping  out." 

"But  it  will  be  so  rough — there  are  two 
thousand  niggers  in  camp  !  " 

"  The  ladies  are  not  afraid." 

I  certainly  was ;  for  just  then,  with  a  pre 
liminary  corkscrew-like  lurch,  the  engine  be 
gan  climbing  the  famous  cobweb  trestle  ;  the 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  87 

earth  suddenly  vanished  beneath  us  and  we 
looked  down  through  a  lath-like  tracery  of 
wooden  girders  to  the  foaming  stream,  now 
four  hundred  feet  below.  I  heard  a  cry  be 
hind,  and  looking  timidly  around,  I  saw  the 
pale  face  of  Jeanie  at  one  engine-window  and 
of  May  Bruce  at  the  other. 

"But  —  but  there  is  no  chaperone,"  I 
gasped. 

"  Mrs.  Judge  Pennoyer  has  agreed  to 
come,"  answered  Mr.  Eaoul,  sweetly. 


5. 


THE  end  of  our  journey  lay  upon  the  very 
summit  of  the  mountain  ridge  ;  twenty 
leagues  of  forest  all  around.  Here,  with  the 
sweep  of  his  gesture  to  the  westering  sun, 
Judge  Hankinson  made  the  great  speech  of 
the  day.  I  remember  little  about  it  save 
that  he  likened  Coe  to  Icarus,  referred  to 
me  (General  Higginbotham)  as  one  of  the 
merchant  princes  of  the  Orient,  and  to  Tim 
Healy  as  some  mighty  magician  "  spinning 
his  iron  spell  o'er  mountain  and  o'er  sea." 
The  rusty  iron  rails  stopped  abruptly  in  a 
field  of  stumps ;  beyond  and  below  us 
stretched  "  the  right  of  way."  Only  a  broad 
swath  cut  through  the  forest,  the  trees  heap 
ed  where  they  fell,  like  jack-straws.  At  the 
edge  of  the  clearing  stood  a  three  -  seated 
wagon  and  a  pair  of  mules. 

Everyone  took  very  simply  to  the  prop 
osition  that  we  were  not  returning ;  and  af- 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  89 

ter  all  the  speech-making  was  over  and  all 
the  whiskey  drunk,  the  train,  with  prolonged 
and  reiterated  tooting,  began  backing  slowly 
down  the  mountain  toward  civilization  again. 

"  Isn't  this  delightful  ?  "  said  Miss  Jeanie. 
Tim  Healy  sniffed. 

I  had  made  it  all  right  with  Coe ;  but 
Healy  still  looked  at  the  proceeding  askance. 

"  Last  time  I  rode  through  this  yer  wood 
I  had  the  pay-chest  with  me ;  and  two  bul 
lets  went  through  my  hat.  And  last  week 
they  killed  the  United  States  mail  and  Jim, 
the  storekeeper  of  Section  Fourteen." 

I  considered  this  to  be  a  story  for  tender- 
feet,  so  I  mildly  hinted  that  "they"  would 
not  attack  so  large  a  party. 

"  Won't  they,  though  ?  The  only  double 
mule  team  as  ever  goes  through  yer  is  the 
month's  pay,  an'  hit's  jest  due  this  Satur- 
day." 

"Who  is 'they'?  "said  I. 

"  Moonshiners.  But  they're  all  on  'em  up 
to  it.  Hope  you've  got  your  shooters?  " 

By  this  time  we  had  started,  and  were 
driving  through  the  twilight  of  the  forest 
over  a  trail  hardly  perceptible  where  the 
wood  grew  scantier. 


90  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

"  Not  I,"  said  I,  "  I  never  carry  them." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Coe,  "  I  left  'em  on  the  bu 
reau  at  home." 

"All  right,"  said  Tim,  gloomily.  "But 
most  fellers  like  a  shot  of  their  own  afore 
they  turn  their  toes  up." 

Miss  Jeanie  produced  a  small,  pearl-han 
dled,  silver-mounted  revolver,  and  begged  me 
to  borrow  it.  Miss  May  handed  the  mate  of 
it  to  Coe  ;  and  young  Raoul  displayed  a  for 
midable  pair  of  Smith  &  "Wesson's,  where  he 
was  sitting  with  her  on  the  back  seat. 

"  All  right,"  said  Tim,  somewhat  mollified. 
"  But  the  wood's  chock  full  of  chickers  all 
the  same." 

At  this  the  ladies  appeared  really  so  terri 
fied  that  I  asked  what  "  chickers"  were,  and 
discovered  them  to  be  a  kind  of  insect. 

"  I've  got  my  pennyr'yle,"  said  Mrs.  Judge 
Pennoyer,  who  was  a  woman  of  resource. 

What  a  drive  it  was !  We  lost  our  way ; 
and  the  girls  sang.  Tim  swore,  Mrs.  Judge 
Pennoyer  laughed,  and  May  and  Jeanie  sang 
all  the  sweeter.  Tim  Healy  thought  he  saw 
twenty  moonshiners  and  emptied  his  revol 
ver  at  one  of  them ;  a  charred  stump  it 
proved  to  be.  We  passed  one  hut  in  a  clear- 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  91 

ing,  and  were  refreshed  by  veritable  whiskey ; 
i.e.,  "  pinetop  "  whiskey,  milky-white  in  color, 
and  said  to  be  made  out  of  the  cones  of 
pines.  We  found  the  trail  once  more  and 
the  stars  came  out,  and  the  nightingales  sang, 
and  May  Bruce  and  young  Kaoul  became 
more  silent.  At  last  we  saw,  upon  a  hillside 
in  the  forest,  the  burning  pitch-pine  torch 
es  of  the  great  construction  "camp."  Hun 
dreds  of  black  forms  surrounded  these  ruddy 
fires  ;  from  some  of  the  groups  came  sounds 
of  banjos  and  negroes  singing;  and  I  looked 
suddenly  up  and  saw  the  starlight  reflected 
in  Miss  Jeanie's  eyes. 

There  was  only  one  tent  in  the  camp  writh 
"  sides  "  to  it — i.e.,  perpendicular  flaps  mak 
ing  walls  below  the  roof,  and  that,  of  course, 
was  sacred  to  the  ladies.  We  lay  beneath 
a  mere  V-shaped  canvas  roof,  which  was 
stretched  downward  so  as  to  end  some  three 
feet  from  the  ground,  our  heads  in  a  heap  of 
pillows,  and  our  legs  all  radiating  outward, 
like  a  starfish,  to  terminate  in  thirty  booted 
feet.  Under  the  canvas  back  I  could  see  the 
starlight,  and  there  I  lay  awake  some  time 
regarding  it,  which  now  seemed  to  bear  some 
reflection  of  Miss  Jeanie's  eyes.  Next  thing 


92  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

came  the  sun  and  opened  mine  by  shining 
into  them ;  then  closed  them  up  again,  and  I 
rolled  into  the  canvas-shade,  and  up,  and  out 
of  doors,  and  followed  Coe  and  Healy  to  the 
"  branch  "  below.  Big  Bear  Creek  it  was,  of 
a  rich  red-chocolate  color,  fit,  perhaps,  to  wash 
a  Chinaman  who  could  not  see.  Yet  Coe 
took  a  plunge,  and  looked  up,  white  enough. 

"  Come  in,"  he  shouted  to  us,  who  were 
hesitating,  "  it  doesn't  come  off." 

The  negroes  had  been  sleeping  all  over  the 
place,  tentless ;  and  now  they  were  pulling 
themselves  together,  in  groups,  and  starting 
for  the  railroad,  or  rather  where  the  railroad 
was  to  be.  On  the  way  they  stopped  at  the 
commissaries'  to  get  their  breakfast,  standing 
in  long  rows  before  the  counter,  waiting  their 
turn.  The  commissaries'  stores  were  the 
only  wooden  buildings  in  camp  ;  well  walled 
and  bolted,  too,  as  they  had  to  be,  said  Tim 
Healy,  to  withstand  the  attacks  of  a  riotous 
Saturday  night.  Four  men,  he  said,  were 
always  in  them  armed;  and  on  Saturday 
nights,  pay -night,  they  would  often  empty  a 
revolver  or  two  into  the  crowd  and  perhaps 
"  drop  "  a  nigger,  before  it  ceased  to  besiege 
their  doors  for  fruit  or  whiskey. 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  93 

Then  we  all  went  to  breakfast,  the  Misses 
Bruce  both  fresh  as  dewy  wood-flowers,  and 
Mrs.  Judge  Pennoyer  radiating  amiability. 
Only  the  head  commissary  and  the  section 
contractor  were  thought  of  sufficient  social 
importance  to  breakfast  with  us,  and  the 
former  from  his  stores  brought  many  deli 
cacies  in  cans  and  bottles.  Then  after  break 
fast  we  went  to  walk — the  ladies  with  sun 
shades  and  gloves — upon  the  location ;  a 
broad  swath  cut  through  the  rolling  forest 
and  undulating  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  in 
either  direction,  dotted  with  men  and  mules. 
Ahead,  they  were  still  blowing  out  stumps 
with  gunpowder  and  dragging  them  away; 
where  we  stood  was  being  built  an  embank 
ment  of  gravel ;  and  they  were  dragging  out 
gravel  from  the  "  cut "  ahead  and  heaping  it 
upon  the  long  mound.  I  gave  my  hand  to 
Miss  Jeanie  and  helped  her  up.  Each  black 
negro  worked  with  a  splendid  rnule ;  seven 
teen  or  eighteen  hands  high  perhaps,  drag 
ging  a  curious  sort  of  drag-spade,  which  the 
mule  knew  how  to  catch  in  the  gravel,  turn 
out  full,  drag  the  load  evenly  along,  and  then 
tip  it  out  adroitly  at  the  precise  spot,  a  foot 
in  front  of  the  last  dump ;  the  negro  hardly 


94  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

doing  more  than  standing  by  to  see  the  mule 
kept  working;  not,  of  course,  working  him 
self.  Thus  each  man-laborer  became  an 
overseer,  if  only  to  a  mule. 

"  The  mule's  the  finer  animal  of  the  two," 
said  Coe,  "  and  much  the  more  moral." 

"  But  he's  got  no  vote,"  grunted  Jim.  "  Ef 
we  didn't  keep  them  black  Mississippi  nig 
gers  up  here  off'm  the  farms,  they'd  swamp 
us  all." 

"  Are  they  allowed  to  bring  their  wives  to 
camp  with  them  ?  "  queried  Miss  Jeanie,  soft 
ly  ;  and,  following  her  glance,  we  saw  several 
coal-black  damsels  sitting  in  the  warm  sand 
bank  at  the  side  of  the  cut,  their  finery  about 
them,  and  evidently  established  there  for  the 
morning,  basking  in  the  sun. 

"  Oh,  yes,  they  bring  up  their  wives,"  said 
Healy,  reluctantly.  "  If  we  didn't,  they'd  run 
away  every  two  or  three  days.  Nothing  a 
contractor  dislikes  so  much  as  irregular  labor." 

"But  it  shows  they  have  some  good  in 
them  to  be  so  devoted,"  said  Miss  Jeanie. 

"  We  don't  all  of  us  have  emotions  stronger 
than  money-getting,"  added  I. 

"  I  don't  know  about  emotions,"  said  Tim. 
"There's  forty  of  their  wives  and  eighteen 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  95 

hundred  niggers,  and  every  Saturday  night 
they  has  a  fight  an'  a  batch  on  'em  gets 
killed,  an'  I  know  it's  terrible  expensive  on 
labor.  Most  as  bad  as  moonshine." 

"  Have  you  got  King  Kelly,  yet  ?  "  said 
Coe,  in  an  undertone. 

"Hush!"  hissed  Captain  Healy,  dramati 
cally.  Just  then  I  noticed  a  file  of  peculiar 
ly  idle  negroes  sauntering  down  the  "right 
of  way ; "  they  had  passed  us  once  or  twice 
before,  and  appeared  to  have  no  occupation. 
"  See  anythin'  peculiar  about  them  niggers  ?  " 

"  They  are  very  lazy,"  said  Coe. 

"  They  look  like  minstrels,"  said  Miss  Jea- 
nie. 

"  By  gracious !  "  cried  Healy,  slapping  his 
thigh,  "  if  she  hasn't  hit  it ! "  We  looked  at 
him  inquiringly ;  he  dropped  his  voice  to  a 
stage  whisper.  "  Come  up  here,"  and  he 
started,  dragging  Mrs.  Judge  Pennoyer  by 
one  hand  up  the  new  gravel  slope  beside  the 
line.  Eaoul  followed,  with  Miss  May;  he 
had  been  very  silent  that  morning  ;  and  I 
with  Miss  Jeanie.  Her  little  foot  was  buried 
at  once  in  the  sliding  gravel,  over  the  dainty 
low  shoe ;  I  wanted  to  carry  her  up,  had  only 
propriety  sanctioned  it.  At  the  top,  Healy 


96  AN  ALABAMA    COURTSHIP 

swept  the  horizon  as  if  for  spies  ;  then  bend 
ing  over  us,  all  in  a  close  group,  he  said : 

"Them  ain't  real  niggers — them's  United 
States  revenue  officers  from  New  Orleans, 
under  General  McBride." 

"  General  McBride  ?  " 

"  He's  in  hidin'  in  my  hut.  He  wouldn't 
black  up.  But  them  deputy-marshals  thought 
it  was  a  spree.  We  had  to  do  it.  Every 
Saturday  the  niggers  are  paid  off — one  dollar 
and  fifty  cents  a  day,  nigh  on  to  ten  dollars 
apiece — an'  then  King  Kelly  he'd  come  down 
from  his  stills  in  the  mountain,  with  his  men 
loaded  with  casks  o'  pine-top,  warranted  to 
kill — an'  by  sundown  eighteen  hundred  nig 
gers  would  be  blind-drunk,  an'  fit  for  shootin'. 
On  last  Sunday  we  lost  sixty-two  hands.  An' 
the  head  contractor,  he  swore  nigh  to  lift  yer 
ha'r  off." 

"Sixty-two  men  killed?"  cried  Jeanie,  in 
horror. 

"  Some  killed,  some  wounded ;  but  it  tells 
on  the  contract  just  the  same.  Why,  you 
could  have  beared  'em  poppin'  all  over  camp." 

The  Higginbothams  had  always  been  abo 
litionists  ;  and  I  felt  my  ancestors  turn  in 
their  complacent  graves. 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  97 

"  Expect  to  get  Kelly  this  time  ?  "  said  Coe. 

"  Dunno,  we'll  see  at  twelve  o'clock,  when 
they're  paid  off.  It'll  be  quite  a  thing  to  see, 
all  the  same.  But  the  ladies  had  better  stay 
in  their  tent.  An'  it's  eleven  now,  so  I 
reckon  we'll  go  back  to  camp.  See,  there  go 
the  marshals." 

When  we  got  back  to  camp  Eaoul  received 
a  telegram.  He  read  it  hastily,  and  crumpled 
it  into  his  pocket;  but,  I  thought,  looked 
troubled. 

Jeanie  and  I  wandered  down  by  the  brook 
side  before  dinner,  and  afterward  Eaoul, 
Healy,  Coe,  and  I  sallied  forth  to  "  see  the 
fun."  We  were  let  into  the  chief  commis 
sary's  hut,  the  front  of  which,  above  a  strong 
wooden  bar,  was  open ;  and  before  it  a  great 
crowd  of  negroes,  singing  and  dancing,  and  a 
hundred  others,  in  a  long  queue,  waiting  for 
their  pay.  "  You  kin  lie  down  on  the  floor 
ef  they  git  to  shootin',"  said  General 
McBride,  whom  we  found  there  smoking 
placidly  in  a  cane-seated  chair.  "  Those  re 
volvers  won't  carry  through  the  boards." 

It  was  a  curious  spectacle,  that  line  of  coal- 
black,  stalwart,  "  swamp  "  negroes  ;  and  then 
to  watch  the  first  human  expression — in  their 
7 


98  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

case  greed — impress  their  stolid  features  as 
they  took  their  pay.  Among  the  crowd  we 
noticed  many  bearded,  well-armed,  flannel- 
shirted  mountaineers  ;  these  we  took  to  be  the 
moonshiners ;  and  near  each  one,  but  loiter 
ing  as  if  to  avoid  attention,  one  of  the  made- 
up  negroes ;  to  us  noAV  obviously  factitious. 
It  was  a  wonder  the  moonshiners  did  not  find 
them  out,  but  that  they  were  intent  on  other 
things. 

"  See,  that's  King  Kelly,"  whispered  Gen 
eral  McBride.  "  That  big  fellow  there  with 
the  slouched  hat  and  rifle."  Having  said 
this,  I  was  surprised  to  hear  him,  when  the 
last  man  had  been  paid  off,  get  up  and  make 
a  speech  to  the  navvies,  in  which  he  congrat 
ulated  them  that  the  camp  had  at  last  been 
freed  from  that  great  pest,  Kelly  ;  and  urged 
them  to  save  their  money  and  be  abstemious. 

"I  am  General    McBride,    of  New   Orleans 

•>•> 

11  Three  cheers  for  Gineral  McBride,  of 
New  Orleans !  "  cried  a  big  mulatto  opposite, 
I  thought  at  a  sign  from  Healy.  They  were 
given,  not  very  heartily. 

"  And  I've  come  up  to  see  those  poisoners 
keep  away." 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  99 

I  had  seen  the  man  he  said  was  Kelly  start 
and  look  about  him,  as  if  for  other  enemies  ; 
then  he  stood  still  nervously,  and  fidgetted  at 
his  gun.  Meanwhile  the  General  made  quite 
a  speech,  apparently  thinking  the  opportunity 
too  good  a  one  to  remain  unimproved.  He 
took  every  occasion  to  heap  obloquy  upon  the 
head  of  Kelly,  king  of  the  moonshiners  ;  and 
concluded  by  lamenting  that  that  "  poor  white 
trash  "  would  not  dare  to  show  his  head  in 
camp  while  even  he,  McBride,  was  there 
alone." 

"Look  yar,"  shouted  Kelly,  striding  up  to 
the  bar  of  the  tent  when  he  had  got  through, 
'  I'm  the  man  you  call  King  Kelly ;  an'  I've 
got  four  stills  a-runnin'  within  a  bit  an'  a 
screech  of  this  yer  camp  ;  an'  I  kin  tell  yer 
it's  deuced  lucky  yer  white-faced,  biled- 
shirted  revenue  officers  stayed  down  to  New 
Orleans." 

"  And  I,"  said  another,  "  I  own  a  still  my 
self  ;  an'  it  ain't  goin'  ter  stop  up  fur  no 
United  States  Government — though  we're 
mighty  glad  to  see  the  Gineral,  ez  he  conies 
here  sociable  and  pleasant  like." 

"And  I,"  "and  I,"  "and  I;"  and  three 
more  strode  forward,  and  I  noticed  a  pair  of 


100  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

pseudo  darkies  get  behind  each  one  as  he 
moved. 

"What'll  yer  take  ter  drink,  Gineral?" 
said  Kelly.  Quick  as  a  flash,  every  man  had 
four  stout  arms  about  his  neck,  choking  him, 
and  the  handcuffs  on  his  wrists.  Not  a  shot 
was  fired ;  and  Kelly  and  his  gang  were  safely 
immured  in  an  improvised  guardhouse.  The 
General  sank  back  upon  his  cane -seated 
chair. 

"A  pretty  job,  gentlemen,"  said  he. 
"  What  will  you  take  to  drink  ?  None  of 
their  pine-top,  though,"  he  added,  with  a 
laugh.  "  Yet,  I  don't  know  as  you  can  hardly 
blame  'em — corn's  mighty  scarce  up  here." 

"  May  I  trouble  you,  sir,  with  a  few  words 
in  private  ? "  The  voice  was  serious,  but 
familiar,  and  appertained  to  Mr.  Hampton 
Ptaoul. 


6. 


:i  T  HAVE  appealed  to  you,  sir,"  said  Raoul, 

1  when  we  had  abandoned  the  still  quiet 
camp  for  the  solitude  of  the  forest,  "to  de 
mand  that  which  every  gentleman  has  the 
right  to  ask  of  every  other." 

I  feared  the  man  had  some  notion  of  a 
duel,  and  his  next  words  did  not  tend  to 
relieve  me.  "  I  have  long  loved  Miss  Bruce." 

I  must  have  appeared  disquieted,  for  he 
hastened  to  add,  "  Miss  May  Bruce,  I  mean. 
But  until  yesterday  I  did  not  know  my  love 
was  returned.  We  have  now  resolved  on 
being  married." 

I  expressed  my  congratulations,  but  inti 
mated  that  I  did  not  yet  see  how  my  aid  was 
necessary. 

"We  have  resolved  to  make  our  bridal 
journey  to  the  White  Sulphur  Springs,  in 
Virginia.  We  shall  be  married  upon  arrival 
there,  and  I  should  esteem  it  a  favor  initial 


102  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

of  a  life-long  friendship  if  you,  sir,  would  con 
sent  to  be  best  man.  Moreover,  your  escort 
may  prove  necessary  to  Miss  Jeanie  to  re 
turn." 

My  escort !  to  Miss  Jeanie  !  I  was  to  travel 
with  her  four  hundred  miles — meantime  her 
sister  philandering  with  this  young  man  — 
perhaps  make  a  visit  at  a  fashionable  water 
ing-place — give  away  her  sister  in  matrimony 
— and  then  make  the  principal  bridesmaid 
companion  of  my  journey  home  !  And  this 
young  Huguenot,  pour  sauver  la  situation, 
called  me  her  escort.  I  looked  at  Eaoul ; 
his  attitude  was  impassive  and  his  manner 
still  courteous ;  but  evidently  he  thought 
there  was  something  unchivalric  even  in  my 
hesitation. 

"  I — has  Miss  Jeanie  Bruce,"  I  hazarded, 
"  yet  been  told  of  your  plans  ?  " 

"  Of  course — and  she  approves  them.  She 
can  hardly  invite  you  herself  to  join  her 
party  ;  it  might  look  forward,  as  you  and 
she,  necessarily,  will  be  left  much  to  your 
selves." 

Absent-mindedly  I  twirled  the  ring  on  my 
finger,  still  there,  that  she  had  given  me. 
Evidently,  as  a  gentleman,  in  the  eyes  of  him, 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  103 

of  her,  and  of  her  sister,  there  was  nothing 
else  for  me  to  do.  "  I  must  see  Miss  Bruce 
herself,"  I  gasped. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Eaoul.  "  I  had  reckoned, 
sir,  that  such  would  be  your  course.  I  will 
meet  you  in  front  of  the  commissary's  tent  at 
three.  "We  start  at  four."  He  stalked  off, 
and  left  me  under  the  live-oak  tree. 

It  was  two  o'clock.  I  felt  that  I  must  see 
Miss  Jeanie  at  once.  Nothing  could  exceed 
the  good-breeding  of  her  greeting ;  but  she 
evidently  expected  me  to  go.  The  calm  of 
her  gentle  voice  told  me  so.  I  found  the  two 
beautiful  young  girls  in  afternoon  toilette  of 
white  muslin,  half  reclining  under  their  open 
tent,  fanning  themselves.  I  think  I  would 
not  have  been  so  much  in  doubt  had  not 
Jeanie  been  so  very  pretty.  Then,  how  haz 
ard,  in  the  presence  of  her  sister,  and  of  her 
own  soft  eyes,  the  fear  that  she  might  be 
committing  an  impropriety  ? 

And  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
and  an  acute  sense  of  my  own  brutality,  that 
I  did  so.  I  began  by  congratulating  Miss 
May,  which  evoked  a  lovable  blush.  "  You 
know  we  have  to  start  after  dark  and  drive 
twenty  miles  to-night,"  said  she,  "  to  a  sta- 


104  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

tion  on  the  Georgia  road — we  cannot  return 
the  same  way ;  Mr.  Eaoul  has  some  reason." 

"  Do  you  think  that  we  four  ought  to  go 
off — ought  to  go  off  just  like  that  ?  " 

Miss  Bruce  looked  at  me,  amazed.  Jeanie 
tried  to  help  her.  "  Do  you  not  have  wed 
ding-journeys  in  the  North  ?  " 

"  Alone,  I  mean,"  I  ended,  desperately. 

"  Alone  ?  Mrs.  Judge  Pennoyer  is  go- 
ing." 

Mrs.  Judge  Pennoyer  had  all  the  elements 
of  a  true  sport ;  and  I  went  back  to  Eaoul— 
(having  had  a  long  walk  down  the  brook  with 
Jeanie  ;  her  happiness  in  her  sister's  pros 
pects  was  quite  charming) — an  hour  after 
the  time  fixed,  less  decided — I  think  there  is 
some  adventurous  blood  in  the  Higgin- 
bothams — and  found  the  camp  in  a  state  of 
wild  tumult.  Eaoul  met  me  nervously. 

"  General  McBride  paroled  Kelly  and  his 
gang,"  said  he,  "  and  the  moonshiners  have 
come  back  from  the  mountains  a  hundred 
strong,  and  given  the  revenue  officers  twenty 
minutes  to  leave  for  New  Orleans." 

"  And  are  they  going  ?  "  said  I. 

"  They  calculate,  sir,  to  go,"  answered 
Eaoul,  gravely.  "The  mule  team  will  take 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  105 

them  back  to  the  head  of  the  line,  and  there 
we  have  wired  for  a  special  to  carry  them 
back  to  Bagdad.  I  have  decided  it  is  best 
for  us  to  go  with  them.  The  special  train 
simplifies  matters.  I  trust  you  have  come  to 
a  decision  ?  " 

"  I— I  do  not  know,"  said  I. 

"We  certainly  cannot  leave  them  here  in 
camp.  Every  nigger  in  it  will  be  blind  drunk 
before  midnight,  and  they  are  fortifying  the 
commissary's  store." 

"  What  on  earth  did  McBride  mean  by 
paroling  those  ruffians,"  I  sighed.  "  It  was 
beginning  to  be  so  pleasant." 

"It  was  an  error  of  judgment.  But  it  will 
be  equally  pleasant  at  White  Sulphur." 

As  we  talked  we  had  returned  to  the  centre 
of  the  camp.  There  we  found  a  picturesque 
scene.  McBride  and  his  men  were  seated  in 
the  glade  of  the  live-oak  forest,  no  longer  dis 
guised  ;  around  them  stood  or  lounged  some 
forty  bearded  mountaineers,  all  provided  with 
long  rifles.  General  McBride  was  sitting 
with  King  Kelly  himself,  amicably  drinking 
his  own  "  pine-top  ;  "  as  we  approached  he 
rose  to  meet  us  and  handed  a  telegram  to 
Kaoul,  who  cast  his  eyes  over  it  and  gave  it 


106  AY  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

to  me,  with  the  remark  that  it  might  assist 
my  decision.     It  read  : 

"  If  cousins  Miss  Bruce  are  with  you,  de 
tain  them  and  escorts.  Will  wire  parental 
authority  to-morrow. 

"  KIRK  BRUCE." 

"I  feel  bound,  sir,  to  ask  you  your  inten 
tions,"  said  McBride  to  Raoul. 

"  Miss  May  Bruce  and  I  are  to  be  married, 
sir." 

"  In  that  case,  sir,"  said  the  General,  "  in 
the  absence  of  parental  authority  I  cannot,  of 
course,  interfere.  Permit  me  to  congratulate 
you."  They  shook  hands. 

"  And  this  Northern  gentleman  ?  " 

"  Goes  with  me,  of  course.  And  Mrs. 
Judge  Pennoyer." 

*'A  most  estimable  lady.  I  knew  her  as  a 
girl." 

"We  thought  of  returning  on  your  spec 
ial." 

"  An  excellent  idea.  Particularly  as  I  have 
an  idea  Mr.  Bruce  may  pass  us  011  Number 
Two.  But  stop — we  have  unluckily  only  one 
mule-team. " 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  107 

"  Is  there  no  room  ?  "  I  asked.  For  I,  my 
self,  was  beginning  to  see  the  necessity  of 
getting  away — to  White  Sulphur  or  to  Salem. 

"  Room  enough — but  you  must  remember 
we  have  nigh  twenty  miles  through  the 
woods.  These  gentlemen — "  and  the  Gener 
al  waved  his  hand  at  the  surrounding  moon 
shiners — "will  naturally  take  a  few  shots  at 
us." 

We  looked  at  one  another  in  perplexity. 
The  colloquy  was  interrupted  by  the  appear 
ance  of  Jeanie  and  May,  in  travelling  dress 
again,  but  looking  very  charming,  and  Mrs. 
Judge  Pennoyer.  To  her  the  situation  was 
rapidly  explained. 

I  have  before  remarked  that  Mrs.  Penn 
oyer  was  a  true  sport.  She  rose  immediately 
to  the  occasion,  and  desired  to  be  introduced 
to  King  Kelly. 

"Colonel  Kelly,"  said  she,  "these  young 
ladies  are  travelling  under  my  protection. 
One  of  them  is  engaged  to  be  married  to  Mr. 
Raoul,  and  they  are  desirous  of  going  to 
White  Sulphur  on  their  wedding  journey. 
As  there  is  only  one  wagon  they  must  return 
with  General  McBride's  psuciy.  I  trust  the 
journey  will  be  perfectly  safe." 


108  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

Kelly  scratched  his  head.  "  I  can  answer, 
of  course,  for  these  gentlemen  here,"  said  he, 
"  but  some  of  my  friends  are  out'n  the  moun 
tain,  and  it  may  be  difficult  to  notify  them  of 
the  sitooation.  Let  me  see  your  team,"  he 
added,  as  if  a  bright  idea  struck  him. 

The  General  and  Kelly  walked  off  in  the 
direction  of  the  wagon.  The  ladies  followed. 
Eaoul,  Healy,  Coe,  and  I  followed  the  ladies. 
The  undisguised  United  States  marshals  fol 
lowed  us,  and  the  moonshiners  followed  the 
marshals.  It  was  a  large  wagon  with  high 
wooden  sides,  bound  with  iron,  and  was  used 
for  bringing  supplies  to  camp.  A  team  of 
six  of  the  biggest  mules — some  fully  eighteen 
hands  high — was  already  being  harnessed  to 
it. 

"  Beckon  you  can  fix  the  ladies  safely," 
said  Kelly.  "We  are  good  shots  on  the 
mountain,"  he  added,  significantly,  to  Mc- 
Bride. 

"  I  see  your  idea,"  said  the  General. 
"  Bring  some  straw." 

The  straw  was  brought  and  filled  the  bot 
tom  of  the  wagon.  Upon  this  sat  the  three 
ladies.  McBride,  Coe,  and  Healy  went  on 
the  high  front  seat ;  Eaoul  and  I  sat  on  the 


AN  ALABAMA  COURTSHIP          109 

tail-board  looking  out  behind ;  and  the  eight 
revenue  officers  disposed  themselves,  four  on 
each  side,  sitting  on  the  side-board  with  their 
legs  hanging  over.  They  had  nothing  but 
six-shooters,  which,  however,  they  displayed 
with  some  ostentation. 

"  Colonel  Kelly,"  said  Eaoul,  slipping 
down  after  he  had  taken  his  seat,  "  lend  me 
one  of  your  rifles — I  want  it  very  particular 
ly  "  (I  heard  him  add  the  name  of  "  Kirk 
Bruce,"  in  the  ear  of  that  chief  of  moon 
shiners),  "  and  I'll  send  it  back  in  Number 
Four  to-morrow." 

"  By  G —  you  shall  have  it,  sir."  And  Kelly 
gave  him  his  own.  "  I  like  your  spunk,  sir  ; 
an'  if  you'n  Mrs.  Kaoul  will  come  back  here 
without  them  darned  biled-shirted  gov'en'- 
m'nt  men,  I'll  give  you  a  real  good  time." 

"  Thank  you,  Colonel,"  said  Eaoul.  "  Good- 
by — and  fire  high." 

We  departed  amid  quite  a  cheer  ;  lumber 
ing  out  of  the  picturesque  great  camp  some 
two  hours  before  sunset,  and  as  we  passed 
the  negroes'  quarters,  heard  already  sounds 
of  revelry  beginning.  "We  felt  the  girls  were 
fairly  safe  between  the  double  rampart  of 
men.  Still,  the  General  thought  they  had 


110  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

perhaps  better  not  sing  (which  they  were 
fond  of  doing),  so  the  long  ride  was  rather 
silent.  Eaoul  lay  leaning  back,  talking  in 
whispers  with  May  Bruce,  and  I  was  left  to 
do  the  same  with  Jeanie.  Coming  to  the  last 
long  hill  before  the  end  of  the  line,  one  or 
two  shots  were  fired  ;  but  they  whistled  in  the 
tree-tops  far  above  our  heads.  We  found  the 
"  special "  waiting  for  us,  got  into  the  one 
"  directors'  car,"  and  started  safely. 

But  when  we  got  to  the  siding  at  Bear 
Creek,  Baoul  asked  the  conductor  which 
train  had  the  right  of  way.  Learning  that 
the  special  had,  he  beckoned  to  me,  and,  tak 
ing  his  rifle,  went  out  upon  the  rear  platform. 
I  followed,  wondering.  Our  train  was  run 
ning  rather  fast,  the  engine  haying  suddenly 
started  up  after  Baoul's  conversation  with  the 
conductor  ;  I  presume  to  him  also  Eaoul  had 
explained  "  the  sitooation."  At  Bear  Creek 
the  regular  up-train  stood  side-tracked  wait 
ing  for  us.  We  rattled  by,  and  on  its  rear 
platform,  in  the  moonlight,  I  saw  a  tall  frock- 
coated  figure  standing.  I  had  hardly  recog 
nized  it  to  be  Kirk  Bruce  when  Eaoul  threw 
up  his  rifle,  and  I  saw  a  flash  of  fire  from  the 
platform  of  the  side-tracked  Mr.  Bruce.  The 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP          111 

reports  were  quite  simultaneous ;  but  neither 
was  hurt,  for  I  saw  Bruce  leaning  his  head 
out  of  the  shadow  of  the  platform  to  look  at 
us,  while  Haoul  remarked,  as  we  went  back 
into  the  car,  now  jumping  wildly  on  the  down 
grade  : 

"  He  knew  I  was  yere,  and  I  knew  he  was 
thar.  You'd  hardly  see  worse  rifle-practice 
in  the  North." 

There  was  a  tinge  of  disgust  in  his  voice, 
and  he  went  out  to  smoke  on  the  engine. 

"Was  it  Cousin  Kirk?  "  said  May  to  me, 
breathlessly. 

I  nodded.     Jeanie  blushed. 


7. 


THE  United  States  marshals  from  New 
Orleans  had  kept  rather  quiet  throughout 
the  journey  ;  but  as  we  approached  the  city  of 
Bagdad  their  spirits  rose.  The  momentary 
interest  caused  by  Mr.  Eaoul's  and  Cousin 
Kirk's  shots  had  subsided  when  they  learned 
there  was  nothing  national  or  professional 
in  the  affair.  Amateur  shooting  was  always 
poor.  But  May  Bruce  was  considered  with 
more  attention  ;  and  when  their  "  special  "  of 
a  "  shirt-tail "  engine  and  a  caboose  backed  up 
to  the  Bagdad  platform,  they  all  requested  to 
be  presented  to  her.  General  McBride  per 
formed  the  ceremony  with  much  formality ; 
including  Mrs.  Judge  Pennoyer,  upon  whom, 
I  could  see,  they  looked  with  a  reverence  that 
only  her  years  divided  from  admiration. 
Even  Eaoul  came  in  for  some  passive  ap 
plause  ;  but  I  played,  as  I  saw,  a  very  second 
fiddle,  which  is  why,  perhaps,  Miss  Jeanie 


AN  ALABAMA  COURTSHIP  113 

and  I  went  off  and  took  a  walk,  by  moonlight, 
down  through  the  ravine  where  I  first  met 
her. 

We  returned  to  find  Mrs.  Pennoyer  slum 
bering  peacefully  on  a  settee  ;  but  Eaoul 
was  walking  up  and  down  nervously.  The 
straight  track  stretched  glistening  away  in 
the  moonlight,  but  not  a  train  nor  engine  was 
in  sight. 

"How  long  do  you  think  it'll  take  Mr. 
Bruce  to  get  down  back  here  ?  "  says  Eaoul 
to  me,  nervously. 

"  Train  Number  Two  doesn't  come  back 
till  to-morrow,  they  said." 

"  I  know ;  but  the  station  man  here  tells 
me  the  engineer  on  Number  Two  married  a 
cousin  of  Kirk  Bruce's  brother-in-law.  Our 
train  doesn't  come  along  from  Memphis  until 
four  in  the  morning.  And  there's  not  an  en 
gine  to  be  had  in  Bagdad." 

"  There's  one,"  said  I ;  and  I  pointed  to  a 
distant  shower  of  sparks  above  the  forest. 
At  the  same  moment  the  peculiar  light  rat 
tle  of  a  "  wild  "  engine  was  audible. 

"  My  God,  sir,  so  it  is !  "  answered  Eaoul. 
"  And  it's  on  the  line  of  the  Tennessee  Eiver 
and  Gulf." 

8 


114  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

"  Number  Two  ?  "  I  answered,  grimly,  for 
I  was  getting  to  understand  the  ways  of  the 
place.  "  What  shall  we  do  ?  " 

"  Do  ?  "  said  Raoul ;  "  why,  get  ready,  of 
course.  He  may  shoot  before  he  stops  the 
engine  ;  lucky  I've  got  a  rifle.  You  go  in  and 
prepare  the  ladies.  .  .  .  This  is  my 
quar'l,"  he  added,  impatiently,  at  my  demur. 
"  Besides  you  ain't  got  only  that  girl's  pop 
gun.  Beckon  you'll  have  a  chance  later, 
likely." 

So  I  went  in,  and  told  the  girls ;  and  we 
woke  up  Mrs.  Judge  Pennoyer,  who,  I  am 
bound  to  say,  took  it  more  calmly  than  might 
have  been  expected  from  a  lady  of  her  years. 
May  was  tearful ;  but  Jeanie's  eyes  were  very 
bright.  All  this  time  the  rattle  of  the  engine 
was  growing  louder  down  the  grade. 

"Haven't  you  kept  that  revolver  I  gave 
you  ?  "  said  Jeanie  to  me. 

I  looked  at  her;  and  went  out  upon  the 
platform  just  in  time  to  see  the  engine  dash 
up,  and  a  strange  figure  jump  out  of  the  cab. 

"  It's  all  right,"  he  cried  ;  "  drop  your 
iron.  I've  got  a  message  from  King  Kelly." 
I  observed  the  man  had  a  blackened  face  and 
uncouth  costume ;  he  did  not  look  like  an 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  115 

engineer,  though  a  negro  fireman  was  on  the 
smoking  engine.  The  saturnine  Eaoul  tore 
open  the  envelope,  read  the  letter  twice,  and 
handed  it  to  me  with  the  nearest  approach  to 
a  chuckle  I  had  heard  him  give.  I  also 
read  it,  while  the  negro  fireman  opened  half 
his  head  and  laughed  aloud. 

"What  will  you  take,  sir?"  I  heard  Ea 
oul  say;  then,  as  the  ladies,  overcome  by 
the  curiosity  this  unexpected -silence  caused, 
came  out  upon  the  platform,  I  heard  him  in 
troducing  the  man  of  the  charcoal  face  to 
each  in  turn. 

The  letter  was  as  follows : 

" KAOUL,  ESQ. 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  A  gentleman  have  arrived 
here  on  Number  Two,  inkwiring  for  you,  and 
I  take  him  for  to  be  a  member  of  Mrs.  Eaoul's 
family,  so  I  got  him  and  his  ingineer  here  in 
Camp  and  reckon  I  kin  hold  him  about  till 
termorrer  sundown. 

"  Yours  trooly, 

"Lucius  E.  KELLY." 


8. 


BEATI  POSSIDENTES.  I  now  saw  that 
under  the  methods  of  Southern  court 
ship  the  man  who  had  got  the  lady  had  a  great 
advantage.  The  Memphis  express  pulled  up 
at  four  in  the  morning  in  front  of  a  burning 
tar -barrel  on  the  track,  which  Raoul  had 
placed  there  as  a  hint  to  it  to  stop  at  Bag 
dad.  How  our  story  always  got  out  so  quick 
ly,  I  don't  know ;  but  two  members  of  Con 
gress  from  Mississippi  turned  out  of  the  two 
end  sections  and  were  accommodated  with 
shakedowns  in  the  smoking  compartment  of 
the  crowded  Pullman,  with  Eaoul  and  myself. 

I  did  not  sleep  very  well,  and  at  seven  in 
the  morning  got  out  at  Chattanooga.  What 
was  my  surprise  at  seeing  Mrs.  Judge  Pen- 
noyer  also  emerge,  fully  dressed,  from  the 
sleeping-car. 

"You  young  people  don't  want  me,"  said 
she,  benevolently.  "  I  should  only  be  in  the 


ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  117 


way.  An'  I'm  getting  out  here  to  take  the 
day  train  on  to  Knoxville.  If  I  got  out  thar, 
they  might  stop  ye  before  the  train  pulled 
out  again  ;  now  ye'll  all  get  by  unbe 
knownst." 

What  could  I  oppose  to  such  strategy? 
Moreover,  the  young  ladies  were  still  in  their 
berths.  I  could  not  leave  Miss  Jeanie  to 
come  back  alone.  I  bowed  ;  the  train  start 
ed  ;  I  got  in  it. 

The  sunlight  broadened,  but  it  was  high 
noon  and  we  had  passed  Knoxville  before 
the  two  girls  appeared,  fresher  than  the  June 
morning,  and  rosier,  I  am  sure,  than  Raoul 
or  I.  With  some  trepidation  I  told  them  of 
Mrs.  Pennoyer's  evasion. 

"Dear  Aunt  Emily,"  said  May,  "she  has 
always  been  like  a  mother  to  me."  But 
Jeanie,  I  fancied,  blushed;  and  that  day 
talked  to  Haoul,  while  May  was  left  to  me. 

The  impending  catastrophe  made  May 
very  gentle  and  silent,  but  we  now  heard 
Jeanie  and  Mr.  Eaoul  in  speech  of  much 
light  laughter  at  the  other  end  of  the  car. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  I,  "  they  are  laughing  at 
the  way  Mr.  Kirk  Bruce's  pursuit  has  stopped 
in  moonshine." 


118  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 


May  looked  at  me  inquiringly. 
"Cousin  Kirk  was  never  attentive  to  me," 
said  she. 

"  He  is  attentive  enough  now,"  I  laughed  ; 
and  she  looked  at  me  as  if  about  to  say  some 
thing  —  but  bit  her  red  lips. 

Jeanie  certainly  avoided  me.  When  Kaoul 
came  back  to  talk  to  his  fiancee,  her  sister 
made  pretext  of  a  headache  and  lay  down. 
The  train  was  not  a  quick  one,  and  stopped 
long  periods  at  several  stations,  during  which 
Raotd  was  obviously  nervous.  His  brow 
only  cleared  when  we  got  to  Bristol,  Ya., 
about  sunset.  Here  we  stopped  an  hour  for 
supper,  half  of  which  we  four  devoted  to  a 
walk.  The  town  consisted  principally  of  a 
long  straight  street,  lined  by  low  two-story 
brick  shops  ;  the  one-story  shops  had  false 
fronts  and  presented  an  appearance  of  unifor 
mity.  Boots,  saddles,  guns,  groceries,  and 
drygoods  were  the  articles  they  sold. 

I  had  noticed  that  Eaoul  kept  persistently 
on  one  side  of  the  street,  and  when  I  started 
to  cross  over,  to  look  at  a  particularly  gorgeous 
embroidered  Mexican  saddle  on  the  other 
side,  he  held  me  back. 

"This  street,"  said  he,  "is  the  State  line 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP          119 

between  Virginia  and  Tennessee.  I  think  we 
had  better  keep  on  the  Virginia  side*" 

"  How  odd,"  said  Jeanie,  "  to  have  a  town 
divided  against  itself !  " 

"  It  is  a  great  convenience,"  answered  Mr. 
Kaoul.  "  When  my  father  and  Colonel  Car- 
ington  had  their  dispute  about  the  last  con 
stitutional  convention,  both  were  candidates 
for  the  governorship,  my  father  in  Tennessee 
and  the  colonel  in  Virginia.  The  constitu 
tion  of  Tennessee  disqualified  a  man  who 
fought  a  duel  from  holding  office.  So  my 
father  stood  on  the  Virginia  side  of  the  street 
and  the  colonel  in  Tennessee.  The  distance 
between  the  sidewalks  is  just  about  right,  as 
you  see.  There  was  a  warrant  out  against 
my  father  in  Tennessee  and  the  colonel  in 
Virginia." 

"  And  did  they  fight  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes — and  the  sheriffs  looked  on,  but 
they  couldn't  cross  the  street.  And  the  col 
onel,  he  allowed  he  was  shot  accidentally  by  a 
bullet  from  another  State.  The  case  went  up 
to  the  Supreme  Court,  but  they  allowed  they 
couldn't  say  any  duel  was  fought  in  Tennes 
see,  and  the  Constitution  does  not  disqualify 
a  man  for  shooting,  but  only  just  for  duelling." 


120  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

At  this  point  a  prolonged  whistling  re 
called  us  to  the  station.  Here  we  found  an 
elegant  Pullman  car  added  to  the  train  for 
our  accommodation,  "with  the  superinten 
dent's  compliments  to  Mr.  Raoul."  The 
darky  porters  in  it  were  smiling  broadly,  and 
on  the  table  was  a  huge  bouquet  of  orange- 
blossoms. 

In  the  morning  we  woke  up — or  Raoul 
woke  me  up — at  the  station  for  White  Sul 
phur.  He  had  a  telegram  signed  "Emily 
Pennoyer."  which  warned  him  to  lose  no 
time,  that  Kirk  Bruce  was  on  the  night  ex 
press. 

"May  and  I  have  decided  to  go  to  the 
county  Judge  and  get  married  directly,"  said 
he.  Our  Pullman  car  had  been  shunted  on  a 
side  track  at  the  little  station  ;  the  rest  of 
the  train  had  gone  on,  and  the  little  village 
was  quiet  and  fragrant  as  a  bank  of  wild 
flowers.  "  Fortunately,  he  is  a  friend  of  my 
father's." 

We  found  the  Judge,  I  think,  before  his 
breakfast,  smoking  on  his  piazza,  which  was 
covered  with  jasmine  and  magnolia.  He  led 
us  directly  across  the  road  to  a  little  brick 
court-house,  where  he  found  another  couple 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  121 

waiting  already,  more  sheepish  than  ourselves, 
who  had  driven  all  night  in  a  buggy,  with  an 
old  white  horse.  The  groom  was  awkward 
and  embarrassed,  with  his  trousers  tucked  in 
his  boots ;  the  bride  was  buxom  and  blush 
ing,  but  seemed  hardly  more  than  a  child. 

"  First  come,  first  served,"  said  the  Judge, 
and  we  all  went  into  the  court-house,  where 
the  clerk  unlocked  his  register,  and  the 
blushing  pair  stood  up  before  us,  the  groom 
having  first  hitched  the  old  white  horse  to 
the  fence  outside.  We  four  were  accommo 
dated  with  seats  upon  the  bench. 

"  Do  you  think  she's  twenty-one  ?  "  whis 
pered  the  Judge  to  Raoul,  while  the  rustic 
bride  shuffled  uneasily  upon  her  new  shoes. 

"Twenty-one?  She's  not  eighteen,"  said 
Eaoul. 

"  Dear  me,"  whispered  the  Judge.  "  Guess 
she'll  have  to  be — reckon  I'll  forget  to  ask 
her." 

The  pair  were  married  with  us  as  wit 
nesses  ;  Jeanie  gave  the  bride  her  parasol  for 
a  wedding  present,  and  the  old  white  horse 
and  buggy  scrambled  away.  "And  now," 
said  the  Judge,  turning  to  Jeanie,  "  how  old 
are  you  ?  " 


122  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

There  was  a  pause  of  embarrassment ;  then 
Raoul  spoke  up  bravely :  "  It's  not  Miss 
Jeanie — it's  Miss  May  Bruce,  and  she's  quite 
eighteen." 

"  Eighteen  ?  "  said  the  Judge.  "  She  must 
be  twenty-one — or  have  you  the  parents'  con 
sent  ?"  * 

"No,"  said  Eaoul.  ''Eighteen  is  old 
enough  in  Alabama." 

"  Twenty-one  in  Virginia,"  said  the  Judge. 
"  Give  me  the  Code." 

The  clerk  handed  him  a  musty  leather 
volume  from  beneath  a  musty  leather  Bible. 
Twenty-one  it  was,  sure  enough. 

"  Why  did  you  say  she  was  only  eigh 
teen  ?  "  said  the  Judge,  peevishly. 

"But  you  married  the  others,"  answered 
I. 

"  True,"  said  the  Judge,  "  but  I've  had  a 
telegram  for  you — from  a  Mr.  Kirk  Bruce, 
who,  I  take  it,  is  a  relative  of  the  bride." 

Eaoul's  face  maintained  its  customary  look 
of  quiet  determination.  "  Where  is  the  near 
est  State  where  a  lady  is  free  to  get  married 
at  eighteen  ?  " 

"South  Carolina,"  said  the  Judge. 

"  All  right,"  said  Raoul.     "  I've  got  a  car, 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  123 

and  I  reckon  Colonel  Carington  will  give  us 
transportation." 

"  I'll  see  that  he  does,"  said  the  Judge,  his 
face  brightening.  "  I  guess  you'd  better  go 
to  Charleston." 

"  Spartanburg  is  the  nearest  point,"  said 
Eaoul.  "  He'll  never  think  of  Spartanburg." 

"  True,"  said  the  Judge,  "  he'll  never  think 
of  Spartanburg.  Lucky,  Colonel  Carington 
is  at  the  Springs." 

In  two  hours  we  had  borrowed  an  old 
freight  engine  and  were  off  on  our  way  to 
Spartanburg. 


9. 


THE  freight  engine  had  been  loaned  us  by 
telegram  from  Colonel  Carington,  and  we 
had  found  our  Pullman  car  pulled  up  on  an 
old  rusty  side-track  that  ran  into  a  bed  of  wild 
flowers ;  on  the  front  platform,  half  smoth 
ered  by  them,  our  two  darkies  were  asleep. 
They  wakened,  however,  to  greet  us  with 
smiles  of  such  expansive  intimacy  that  I  felt 
bound,  when  we  were  safely  on  the  way,  to 
put  them  au  courant  of  the  situation.  The 
solemnity  and  sympathy  their  faces  at  once 
assumed  guaranteed  their  discretion  ;  though 
I  afterward  heard  the  "  conductor  "  adjuring 
the  engineer  from  the  front  platform  to  "git 
up  that  thar  burro-engine  wif'm  bacon-ham." 
Whereupon  the  engineer  sanded  the  track  and 
blew  "  off  brakes." 

The  long  journey  was  rather  distressing, 
however.  The  brave  girls  did  not  lose  their 
spirits,  but  they  kept  to  themselves,  resting 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  125 

in  the  state-room,  while  Eaoul  and  I  sat  on 
the  rear  platform  and  watched  the  dust  eddy 
up  from  the  long  single  track  behind  us. 
"We  had  innumerable  waits  and  sidings ; 
where  often  the  girls  and  I  wandered  into 
the  woods  after  wild  flowers,  while  Eaoul 
stayed  behind  to  pepper  Mrs.  Judge  Pen- 
noyer  with  telegrams.  We  were  now  by  the 
highest  mountains  of  the  East ;  Koan  Moun 
tain  still,  though  it  was  June,  was  rosy-robed 
about  its  shoulders  with  the  laurel. 

The  day  wore  on,  and  I  could  get  no 
speech  with  Jeanie.  I  looked  for  my  dedom- 
magement  to  the  journey  home.  This  I  no 
longer  dreaded ;  it  was  a  rosy  hope.  But 
Jeanie  was  so  timid,  now — or  I  was  bolder. 
In  the  evening  we  had  a  long  wait  for  the 
night  express,  which  rattled  by  our  siding  at 
a  wood-and-water  station. 

"Perhaps  Mr.  Bruce  is  on  that  train,"  I 
laughed. 

"  No,"  said  Eaoul,  gravely  (he  never  had  a 
sense  of  humor) ;  "I  am  confident  he  is 
not." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  have  had  a  telegram  from  Mrs.  Judge 
Pennoyer." 


126  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

"  Is  she  his  confidante  ?  " 

"  She  says  that  he  has  suddenly  decided 
to  await  your  return  in  Knoxville." 

"  Await  my  return  ?  " 

"  Certainly — yours  and  Miss  Jeanie's.  I 
conclude  the  Judge  this  morning  wired  him 
an  answer  that  it  was  not  Jeanie  who  was 
getting  married." 

I  gasped.  "  Then  it  was  not  you,  after  all, 
he  was  chasing  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  not." 

"  Why  did  you  run  away  so  ?  " 

Raoul  looked  at  me  as  who  should  say, 
"  Oh,  these  Northerners  !  " 

"Perhaps  it  wasn't  necessary,"  he  added, 
with  that  faint  tinge  of  sarcasm  which  is 
akin  to  humor.  "  Is  that  your  ring  you  wear 
upon  your  finger  ?  " 

I  know  I  started ;  and  I  felt  myself  blush. 
"  It — it  was  given  to  me  to  wear,"  I  gasped, 

"  Exactly — and  by  Miss  Jeanie  Bruce — 
and  Mr.  Kirk  Bruce  gave  it  to  Miss  Jeanie. 
Of  course  he  thought — when  he  heard  a 
Miss  Bruce  and  a  gentleman  had  gone  off  to 
get  married " 

"  Kirk  Bruce  gave  it  to  her  ?  "  I  said.  My 
mind  works  slowly  at  such  times. 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  127 

"  Certainly.     Did  she  not  tell  you  so  ?  " 

"  She  said  a  gentleman  gave  it  her " 

"  Well,  he  was  the  gentleman." 
"  Who  had  shot  a  schoolmate  at  boarding- 
school — 

"  Same  man,  I  assure  you." 

"  For  being  attentive  to  a  young  lady  who 


"  Kirk  Bruce,  to  a  T." 

"  Went  out  without  a  revolver- 


"  As  you  did  yourself.  I  think,"  concluded 
Eaoul,  "  you  had  better  give  Miss  Jeanie  her 
ring  back." 

"  If  I  do,"  said  I,  "  I'm  damned." 


10. 


THEY  were  married  the  next  day  in  the 
pretty  little  Episcopal  church  in  Spar- 
tanburg,  by  the  Bishop  of  Georgia.  They  left 
the  same  afternoon  on  their  wedding  journey 
back  to  "Old  White"  and  the  North.  Miss 
Jeanie  Bruce  and  I  accompanied  them — or 
rather,  they  us — as  far  as  the  junction  station 
(I  forget  its  name),  where  they  met  the  east- 
bound  train,  and  we  were  to  keep  on  to 
Knoxville. 

Jeanie's  sweet  face  was  very  pale,  but  her 
eyes  were  like  deep  wells — so  deep  now  that 
they  indeed  "  unravelled  the  coiled  night  and 
saw  the  stars  by  noon."  She  had  to  sit  by 
me  now  ;  but  her  silence  appealed  even  to  a 
blunted  Northern  sense  of  chivalry.  I  fore 
saw  that  I,  too,  should  have  to  keep  silence 
until  I  had  brought  her  home  to  Knoxville. 
But  not  a  day  longer !  Not  an  hour,  I  inly 
vowed. 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  129 

But  oh,  the  beauty  of  that  immediate 
future !  The  long  twenty  hours'  journey 
after  they  left  us  at  the  junction — where  she 
was  under  my  protection,  and  no  Kirk  Bruce 
could  say  me  nay  !  Even  chivalry  at  such 
times  is  like  a  sordine  on  one  harp-string — 
heart-string  I  had  almost  said.  And  one's 
being  is  so  resonant  that  the  note  of  speech 
is  hardly  missed. 

So,  I  had  my  two-hours'  day-dream,  and 
then  Mrs.  Judge  Pennoyer  turned  up  on  that 
east-bound  train,  as  chaperone  to  bring  us 
home. 

"  You  telegraphed  for  her  ? "  I  said  to 
Jeanie. 

She  did  not  deny  it ;  and  I  thought  Mrs. 
Pennoyer  cast  one  look  at  me  as  of  contempt. 

Then  I  saw  her  see  the  ring  upon  my 
finger,  and  her  expression  seemed  to  change. 

We  saw  the  happy  pair  go  off,  and  we 
went  back  to  our  seats  in  the  returning  train. 
We  three ;  and  one  of  us  most  miserable,  and 
that  was  I. 

I  had  given  up  all  hope  of  talking  with 
Jeanie  any  more.  She  went  off  with  Mrs. 
Pennoyer  to  a  front  seat,  where  I  saw  them 
in  earnest  consultation  ;  and  that  ancient  re- 


130  AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP 

lict  of  justice  tempered  by  mercy  appeared 
to  be  speaking  of  me.  I  watched  them  ;  and 
I  heard  the  words  " Mr.  Bruce"  and  "the 
ring  ;  "  and  I  saw  Jeanie  grow  still  more  pale. 

Finally,  to  my  glad  astonishment,  she  rose, 
and  like  a  brave  lady — not  like  those  North 
ern  girls  I  knew  in  Salem,  who  would  not 
dare  throw  a  mail  a  life  preserver  to  save 
him  from  drowning — sweet  and  gracious,  she 
came  back  to  me. 

"  Mr.  Higginbotham  "  (what  a  name  to  set 
by  Raoul,  or  even  Bruce),  "  I  must  have  my 
ring  again,"  said  she. 

"  Never,"  I  answered.  "It  is  not  your 
ring,  but  mine." 

"  I  only  lent  it  to  you.     I  did  not  give  it." 

"  Then  lend  it  to  me  a  little  longer — till  I 
have  seen  you  home,"  I  said. 

Her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  my  heart 
was  drowned  in  them. 

"  But  Mrs.  Pennoyer  says  Cousin  Kirk  is 
waiting  for  us  there.  Oh,  please." 

"  Let  him  wait,"  I  said. 

"  But,  please.  I  implore  you  —  as 
you " 

"  As  I  love  you,"  I  said.  "  As  I  love  you, 
I  shall  keep  it.  Will  you  marry  me  ?  " 


AN  ALABAMA    COURTSHIP  131 

"I — I  do  not  love  you,"  she  answered,  al 
most  in  a  whisper.  "  Now,  will  you  give  it 
back  ?  " 

"  No,"  I  said. 

I  saw  her  tears.  "He  will  kill  you;"  and 
she  left  me,  sobbing. 

"  Then,  you  can  take  it,"  I  called  out,  after 
her. 

Man  can  be  brutal  at  such  times. 

Mrs.  Pennoyer  came  back  and  tried  to 
move  me.  Who  could,  after  Jeanie  Bruce 
had  failed?  Moreover,  I  thought  she 
thought  she  would  have  done  like  me. 

I  fear  Jeanie  cried  most  of  that  journey 
home.  But  I,  as  is  the  way  of  man,  was 
happy. 

We  got  back  to  Knoxville  in  the  early 
morning.  They  did  not  wish  me  to  go  home 
with  them  from  the  station  ;  so  I  put  them  in 
a  carriage,  and  sat  upon  the  box.  We  drove 
up  to  the  piazza  of  the  little  house  upon 
which  sat  a  man  in  a  black  frock-coat,  smok 
ing  a  cigar.  He  threw  it  away,  and  took  off 
his  hat  to  the  ladies.  We  both  assisted  them 
out ;  and  Jeanie  ran  quickly  into  the  house, 
Mrs.  Judge  Pennoyer  following.  I  paid  the 
carriage,  and  it  drove  away. 


132  AN  ALABAMA    COURTSHIP 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Kirk  Bruce. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  I. 

"  I  will  request  you,  sir,  for  to  give  me 
that  ring  that  is  on  your  finger." 

"  That  ring  does  not  belong  to  me." 

"  That  is  why,  sir,  I  ask  you  as  a  gentle 
man,  fo'  to  give  it  up." 

"  That  is  why,  sir,  I  am  compelled  as  a 
gentleman,  fo'  to  refuse." 

Insults  to  one's  diction  come  next  to  those 
that  touch  the  heart.  Mr.  Bruce  had  me, 
forthwith,  "  covered  "  with  his  revolver. 

"  Are  you  engaged  to  Miss  Jeanie  Bruce  ?  " 

"  I  am  not." 

"Then,  sir,  as  a  gentleman,  you  have  no 
right  to  wear  that  ring." 

I  had  heard  vague  stories  of  firing  through 
one's  coat  pocket ;  and  I  felt  in  mine  for  the 
little  revolver  Jeanie  had  given  me.  But  the 
miserable  little  toy  was  turned  the  wrong 
way,  and  I  could  not  twist  it  about. 

"He  is  engaged  to  me  —  he  is,"  cried 
Jeanie,  bursting  out  from  the  front  door. 
"He  asked  me  on  the  train." 

"  And  you  refused  me,"  I  said,  turning  my 
eyes  for  one  moment  away  from  Bruce  to 
look  at  her. 


AN  ALABAMA   COURTSHIP  133 

"  I  did  not — I  only— 

How  it  happened,  I  do  not  know ;  but  at 
that  instant  the  confounded  revolver  went  off 
in  my  pocket.  With  a  cry,  Jeanie  threw  up 
her  arms  and  fell  upon  the  floor  of  the  piazza. 
Bruce  and  I  were  at  her  feet  instantly.  Mrs. 
Pennoyer  rushed  out.  The  neighbors  rushed 
across  from  over  the  way. 

"Is  she  killed?"  said  Bruce  and  I,  to 
gether. 

As  we  spoke  Jeanie  made  a  dart,  and  pick 
ing  up  Brace's  revolver,  which  he  had 
dropped  upon  the  grass,  threw  it  over  a  high 
board  fence  into  the  neighboring  lot.  Then 
turning,  "  Give  me  your  ring,"  said  she. 

I  gave  it  to  her. 

"  And  now,"  she  said,  replacing  it  on  an 
other  finger,  "Cousin  Kirk,  let  me  introduce 
to  you  the  gentleman  to  whom  I  am  to  be 
married — Mr.  Higginbotham,  of  Boston." 

"  Salem,"  I  corrected,  in  a  dazed  way. 

"  Of  Salem.  Cousin  Kirk — congratulate 
him." 

Cousin  Kirk  looked  at  her,  at  me,  and  at 
the  board  fence. 

"  As  a  gentleman,  sir,  I  have  no  other 
thing  to  do.  Of  course — if  my  cousin  loves 


134  AN  ALABAMA    COURTSHIP 

you — you  may  keep  the  ring.  Though  I 
must  allow,  sir,  you  shoot  rather  late." 

"With  this  one  simple  sarcasm  he  departed. 
Jeanie  and  I  watched  him  groping  in  the  long- 
grass  of  the  next  lot  for  his  revolver  and  then 
go  slouching  down  the  road.  We  turned  and 
our  eyes  met.  I  tried  to  take  her  hand  ;  but 
suddenly  her  face  grew  scarlet.  "  Oh,  what 
have  I  done  ? "  and  she  rushed  into  the 
house. 

I  went  back  to  Salem. 

I  stayed  there  just  four  days.  In  New 
York  I  met  Jerry  Sullivan  and  had  a  talk 
with  him.  He  will,  in  future,  suppress  his 
sense  of  humor  when  inditing  telegrams. 

Then  I  wrote  and  asked  Jeanie  if  she 
would  accept  me,  save  at  the  pistol's  mouth. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Raoul  accompanied  us  on 
our  wedding  journey ;  and  we  were  married 
at  White  Sulphur  by  the  genial  justice  de 
ceans. 


LOS    CARAQUENOS 

BEING    THE    LIFE    HISTORY    OF    DON 

SEBASTIAN   MARQUES  DEL  TORRE 

AND   OF  DOLORES,   HIS  WIFE, 

CONDESA  DE  LUNA 


PAGANISM  was  the  avowal  of  life; 
Christianity  the  sacrifice  of  it.  So  the 
world  civilized  has  always  separated  at  the 
two  diverging  roads,  according  as  brain  or 
blood  has  ruled  their  lives ;  the  Turanian 
races,  and  after  them  the  Latins,  to  assert 
life ;  the  Semitic  races,  and  after  them  the 
Teutons,  to  deny  it.  So  the  Church  of  Home, 
as  nearest  in  time  to  Paganism,  has  been 
nearer  the  avowal  of  life,  has  recognized, 
through  all  its  inquisitions,  human  hearts; 
the  Sects  have  sought  to  stifle  them;  the 
Puritans  have  posed  to  ignore  them.  Thus 
cruelty  may  be  the  crime  of  priests ;  hypoc 
risy  has  been  the  vice  of  preachers. 

Hence  my  poor  friend  Tetherby,  spinning 
his  affections  from  his  brain,  tired  with  a 
mesh  of  head-wrought  duties,  died,  or  rather 
ceased  to  live,  of  a  moral  heart-failure.  His 
heart  was  too  good  to  be  made  out  of  brains 


138  LOS  CARAQUEROS 

alone ;  and  his  life  was  ended  with  the  loss 
of  that  girl  of  his — what  was  her  name, 
Myra,  Marcia  ? — born,  in  the  Northland,  of  a 
warmer  blood,  who  fell  a  victim  there,  as  the 
rose-tree  does  in  too  cold  a  climate,  to  the 
creeping  things  of  earth.  Now  it  happened 
that  that  same  year  I  was  told  the  story  of 
Dolores,  Marquesa  del  Torre  y  Luna,  almost 
the  last  of  the  old  Spanish  nobility  of  Cara 
cas,  called  la  doiia  sola  de  la  casa  del  Key — 
as  we  should  say,  the  lonely  lady  of  the  house 
of  the  King — for  she  lived  there,  married  and 
widow,  fifty  years,  and  left  no  child  to  in 
herit  the  thick-walled  city  house,  four  square 
about  its  garden,  and  the  provinces  of  coffee  - 
trees,  and,  what  she  prized  more  and  we  prize 
less,  the  noble  blood  of  Torre  and  of  Luna, 
now  run  dry. 

There  are  two  things  in  the  little  city  of 
Caracas  that  go  back  to  the  time  when  the 
Spanish  empire  made  a  simulacrum  of  the 
Roman  round  the  world — one  is  the  great 
round-arched  Spanish  bridge,  spanning  the 
deep  arroyo  on  the  mountain  slope  above 
the  present  town — useless  now,  for  the  earth 
quake  clefts  are  deeper  on  either  side  than 
this  gorge  of  the  ancient  river  of  the  city, 


LOS  CARAQUEXOS  139 

and  have  drained  its  stream  away — and  the 
other  this  great  stone  fortress  in  the  centre 
of  the  present  town,  with  walls  eight  feet 
thick,  its  windows  like  tunnels  cut  through 
to  the  iron  unglazed  casement — for  this  was 
the  only  house  that  was  left  standing  on  the 
evening  of  the  great  earthquake ;  and  so  the 
modern  city  clusters  timidly  about  it,  its 
houses  a  modest  one-  or  double-story,  and, 
on  the  clay  slope  where  the  older  city  was, 
the  cactus  grows,  and  the  zenith  sun  burns 
the  clay  banks  red,  and  the  old  "  gold-dust 
road,"  over  the  Cordillera  to  the  sea,  now 
but  a  mule -path  of  scattered  cobble-stone, 
winds  lonely  and  narrow  across  the  splendid 
bridge,  among  the  great  fissures  that  the 
earthquake  left.  And  both  bridge  and  house 
still  bear  the  sculptured  blazonry,  the  lions 
and  the  castles,  and  the  pious  inscription  to 
the  greater  glory  of  the  Virgin. 

Caracas  lies  in  a  plain,  like  the  Vega  of 
Granada,  only  green  with  palms  as  well  as 
poplars  ;  but  through  its  rich  meadows  a  tur 
bid  mountain  torrent  runs,  and  south,  and 
west,  and  east  are  mountains ;  and  north  the 
mighty  Silla  lifts  almost  to  the  snows,  half 
breaking  the  ceaseless  east  wind  of  the  sea ; 


140  LOS  CARAQUEROS 

trade-wind,  it  has  been  called  in  history ; 
slave-wind  were  better.  And  by  the  little  city 
is  the  palm-clad  Calvareo,  the  little  hill  gay 
with  orchids  and  shaded  by  tree-ferns,  in 
whose  pleasant  paths  the  city  people  still 
take  their  pleasure  (for  the  name  of  Calvary 
but  means  the  view,  not  any  sadness),  and 
took  their  pleasure,  eighty  years  since,  when 
this  story  begins.  And  one  evening,  in  the 
early  years  of  the  century,  there  walked 
alone,  or  with  but  a  nurse  for  her  duefia,  a 
girl  whose  beauty  still  smiles  down  through 
sad  tradition  aal  through  evil  story,  to 
lighten  the  dark  streets  of  the  old  Spanish 
town,  whose  stones  for  many  years  her  feet 
have  ceased  to  press.  And  the  memory  of 
the  old  Casa  Eey,  the  castle,  all  is  hers ;  and 
the  people  of  the  town,  the  Caraquenos,  still 
see  her  lovely  face  at  the  window;  first  at 
one,  and  then  at  the  other,  but  mostly  at 
the  grated  window  in  the  round  tower  of  the 
corner,  that  projects  and  commands  the  two 
streets  ;  for  there  her  sweet,  pale  face  used 
to  show  itself,  between  the  bars,  and  watch 
for  the  cavalry  her  noble  husband  led,  return 
ing  from  the  wars.  For  then  were  wars  of 
liberation,  when  freedom  was  fought  for,  not 


LOS  CAR4QUE808  141 

possession  and  estates ;  and  the  Marquis 
Sebastian  Ruy  del  Torre  led  in  all.  And 
days  and  days  she  would  watch  for  him  re 
turning,  after  battles  won,  she  sitting  with  her 
golden  needle -work  at  the  corner  window, 
her  night-black  hair  against  the  iron  bar  (for 
there  are  no  glass  window-panes  in  Caracas), 
her  strange  blue  eyes  still  watching  down  the 
street.  So  she  sat  there,  and  broidered  chasu 
ble  or  altar-cloth  for  the  holy  church  of  Santa 
Maria  de  las  Mercedes,  where  she  prayed  each 
dawn  and  evening,  yet  cast  her  eyes  down 
either  street  between  each  stitch,  to  watch 
the  coming  of  him  she  loved  on  earth.  And 
the  people  of  Caracas  used  to  gather  her 
glances  to  their  hearts,  like  blue  flowers,  for 
of  herself  they  saw  no  more  than  this. 

But  her  husband,  from  their  wedding-day, 
never  saw  her  more.  For  fifty  years  she  sat 
at  this  window,  working  chasuble  and  stole, 
and  always,  when  the  distant  trumpet 
sounded,  or  the  first  gold-and-scarlet  pennon 
fluttered  far  down  the  street,  she  would  drop 
her  work  and  rise.  And  then  she  would 
wave  her  hand,  and  her  husband  would 
wave  his  hand,  at  the  head  of  his  column  far 
away.  This  was  for  the  populace.  But 


142  LOS  CARAQUEROS 

then  she  would  go  from  the  window ;  and 
be  seen  there  no  more  while  he  stayed  at 
Caracas.  .,  .  .  But  those  that  were  be 
neath  the  window  used  to  say  (for  the  hus 
band  was  too  far  off  then  to  see)  that  before 
she  left  the  window,  she  would  cast  a  long 
look  down  the  street  to  that  distance  where 
he  rode,  and  those  that  saw  this  glance  say 
that  for  sweetness  no  eye  of  mortal  saw  its 
equal,  and  the  story  is,  it  made  little  children 
smile,  and  turned  old  bad  men  good,  and 
even  women  loved  her  face. 

Then  she  vanished  from  the  tower,  and 
they  saw  her  no  more.  During  all  the  time 
that  might  be  the  Marquis's  stay,  no  more 
she  came  to  the  window,  no  more  to  the 
door.  State  dinners  were  given  there  in  the 
King's  house  ;  banquets,  aye,  and  balls,  where 
all  that  was  Castilian  in  Caracas  came;  but 
the  custom  was  well  known,  and  no  one  mar 
velled  that  the  chatelaine  came  not  to  meet 
them;  the  lovely  Lady  Dolores,  whom  no 
one  ever  spoke  to  or  saw.  Some  duefia,  some 
relation,  some  young  niece  or  noble  lady, 
cousin  of  either  the  del  Torre,  was  there  and 
did  the  honors.  And  of  the  Marquesa  no 
one  ever  spoke,  for  it  was  understood  that, 


LOS   CARAQUES08  143 

though  not  in  a  convent,  she  was  no  longer 
in  the  world — even  to  her  husband,  it  was 
said,  at  first  with  bated  breath,  then  openly. 

For  the  servants  told,  and  the  family,  and 
it  was  no  secret,  how  days  and  weeks  before 
her  lord  returned  the  lady  would  busy  herself 
with  preparations.  And  their  state  suite  of 
rooms,  and  their  nuptial-chamber  (into  which, 
alas  !  she  else  had  never  come  !)  were  prepared 
by  her,  and  made  bright  and  joyous  with  rich 
flowers,  and  sweet  to  his  heart  by  the  knowl 
edge  of  her  presence,  and  the  touch  of  her 
dear  hand.  Then,  when  all  was  done,  and 
one  white  rose  from  her  bosom  in  a  single 
vase  (and  in  a  score  of  years  this  white  rose 
never  failed),  she  darkened  the  rooms  and 
left  them  for  his  coming,  and  went  back  to 
her  seat  in  the  stone-floored  tower  room, 
and  sat  there  with  her  gold  and  silver  em 
broidery,  and  so  watched  for  him.  And 
while  he  stayed  in  his  palace,  she  lived  in 
those  cold,  bare  rooms;  for  they  alone  had 
not  been  changed  when  they  were  married, 
but  had  been  kept  as  they  had  been  a 
prison,  and  my  lady  Dolores  loved  them 
best ;  but  she  came  not  now  to  the  window, 
lest  their  eyes  might  meet. 


II. 


SO  fifty  years  she  lived  there  ;  and  that  is 
why  the  old  Spaniard  of  Caracas  still 
points  out  the  house,  and  young  men  and 
maidens  like  to  make  their  trysting-places  of 
its  gardens,  which  are  public  and  where  the 
band  plays  evenings — if  that  can  be  called 
trysting  to  our  northern  notions,  which  is  but 
a  stolen  mutual  glance  in  passing.  But  hearts 
are  warm  in  Catholic  Spain,  and  they  dare  not 
more ;  right  hard  they  throb  and  burn  for 
just  so  much  as  this — aye,  and  break  for  the 
lack  of  it.  I  say,  fifty  years — fifty  years  she 
lived  there,  but  forty  she  lived  alone,  for  at 
the  end  of  ten  years  he  died ;  and  the  man 
ner  of  her  living  and  his  dying  is  what  I 
have  to  tell. 

But  after  that  still  forty  years  she  lived 
on  alone.  Now  she  no  longer  worked  at  the 
window,  and  she  came  there  but  rarely.  It 
seemed  she  came  there  for  compassion,  that 


LOS  CARAQUEROS  145 

the  people,  whom  she  felt  so  loving,  might 
see  her  smile.  For  her  smile  was  sweet  as 
ever,  only  now  it  bore  the  peace  of  heaven, 
not  the  yearning  love  of  earth.  Yet  never 
went  she  out  her  doors.  And  when  she  died 
— it  is  only  some  years  since — they  buried 
her  upon  Good  Friday,  and  she  sleeps  in  her 
own  church,  beneath  the  great  gold  shrine 
she  loved  and  wrought  for,  of  Mary,  Mother 
of  the  Pities.  And  all  the  people  of  the  city 
saw  her  funeral ;  and  there  is,  in  the  church, 
a  picture  of  the  Virgin,  that  is  really  her, 
painted  by  a  dying  artist  that  had  seen  her 
face  at  the  window  many  years  before. 

And  did  they  not,  the  Caraquenos,  wonder 
and  ask  the  cause  of  this? — What  was  it?— 
They  do  not  know  —  But  did  they  not  ask 
the  story  of  the  lonely  lady,  so  well  known  to 
them  ? — They  asked  many  years  since  ;  but 
soon  gave  over;  partly  that  the  secret  was 
impenetrable,  partly  for  love  of  her.  For 
they  had,  the  poorest  peasant  of  them,  that 
quick  sympathy  to  stanch  heart's  wounds 
that  all  the  conventions  of  the  strenuous 
North  must  lack.  God  gives,  in  all  things 
compensation  ;  and  even  sins,  that  are  not 
mean  or  selfish,  have  their  half  atoning  vir- 
10 


146  LOS  CAEAQUENOS 

tnes.  Their  silence  was  soothing  to  her  sor 
row  ;  they  never  knew.  But  the  priest  ? — 
The  Church  of  Rome  is  cruel,  but  it  keeps  its 
secrets.  And  only  it  and  Heaven  know  if 
their  lives  were  one  long  agony  of  misguid 
ance,  as  many  lives  must  be  on  earth — per 
haps  sometimes  the  priest-confessor  may  help 
in  such  affairs ;  if  so,  God  speed  the  Jesuits. 
But  one  thing  is  sure :  in  all  their  lives,  af 
ter  their  marriage,  they  never  met.  She  died 
old,  in  gentle  silence  ;  he  still  young,  upon  a 
bloody  field  ;  and  now  their  eyes  at  last  met 
in  Heaven,  "  her  soul  he  knows  not  from  her 
body,  nor  his  love  from  God." 

And  we  may,  harmless,  venture  to  tell 
what  the  people  of  Caracas  say — with  rever 
ent  memory,  and  loving  glances  at  the  old 
stone  house ;  the  hearts  that  inhabited  it  are 
cold ;  but  its  Spanish  arms  above  the  door 
still  last,  clear-cut  as  on  the  day  the  pride  of 
this  world's  life  first  bade  the  owner  place 
them  there. 


III. 

IN  the  Calvareo  that  evening  the  Doiia  Do 
lores  walked  alone,  with  only  old  Jacinta, 
the  black  nurse ;  black  she  was  called,  but 
her  hair  alone  was  black — blue -black  ;  her 
face  wTas  of  that  fiery  brown  that  marks  the 
Venezuelen  Indian  ;  she  was  not  fat,  as  most 
nurses,  but  stood  erect,  with  fierce  lurid  eyes, 
her  hair  in  two  tight  braids,  and  was  follow 
ing  and  watching  her  gentle  charge.  Jacinta 
had  things  to  do  in  our  story  ;  her  race  has 
nothing  of  the  merry  sloth,  the  gross  animal- 
ity  of  the  negro ;  what  things  Jacinta  found 
to  do,  were  done.  She  was  scarce  a  dozen 
years  older  than  her  mistress,  and  her  form 
was  still  as  lithe,  her  step  as  firm  and  quick 
as  that  of  that  boy  of  hers,  now  twelve,  in  the 
military  school,  training  under  the  soutane! d 
Jesuits  for  the  service  of  the  Church — or 
Bolivar.  And  in  the  Calvareo  also  that  even 
ing  were  two  men — nephew  and  uncle,  both 


14:8  LOS  CARAQUEftOS 

cousins  of  Dolores — and  not,  of  course,  walk 
ing  with  her  or  speaking  to  her,  save  by  rev 
erent  bows ;  and,  on  the  nephew's  part  at 
least,  by  looks  of  fire.  Yet  the  uncle  might, 
perhaps,  have  walked  with  her,  even  in  Car 
acas  ;  for  he,  whom  men  called  the  General, 
despite  his  prouder  titles,  was  not  her  cousin 
only,  but  her  guardian. 

Dolores  and  her  maid  have  traversed  the 
spiral  path  to  the  summit  of  the  little  hill ; 
there  is  a  little  pool  and  fountain  that  the 
Moors,  generations  back,  had  taught  these 
people's  ancestors  to  build ;  and  from  a 
bench  among  the  orchids  and  the  jasmine, 
and  the  charming  amaryllis  lily,  standing 
sentry  by  her,  like  a  band  of  spearmen,  sees 
Dolores  the  lovely  valley,  purple  in  the  first 
shadows  of  the  short  tropic  day,  and,  on  the 
southern  mountain,  the  white  walls  of  the 
Archbishop's  new  convent ;  to  the  north,  and 
higher,  the  little  mountain  fort  guarding  the 
road  to  the  coast,  and,  as  she  looks,  it  dips 
its  colors  to  the  sunset,  which  are  the  yellow 
and  red — the  blood  and  gold — of  Spain,  and 
the  booming  of  its  little  cannon  echoes  down 
the  valley  and  the  Angelus  replies.  Then 
she  turns,  and  touches  tenderly  (not  plucks) 


LOS  CARAQUESOS  149 

a  marvellous  lonely  flower  that  blooms  beside 
her.  It  is  the  Eucharis  Amazonica,  the  lily 
of  the  Amazon,  but  known  to  her  only  as  the 
Flor  del  Espiritu  santo — the  flower  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  One  moment,  it  seems  that  she 
will  be  disturbed.  The  younger  man  has 
left  the  older  on  his  walk — for  they  are  not 
always  together,  and  gossip  has  made  him 
suitor  for  his  cousin's  hand,  and  he  stands  a 
moment  watching  her,  behind  a  group  of  tree- 
ferns.  No  lovelier  a  girl  had  surely  even  his 
eyes  ever  rested  on,  as  she  sat  there  stilly, 
though  her  wonderful  eyes  were  lost  to  him, 
following  the  sunset.  And  she  was  the  great 
est  heiress  in  all  the  Spanish  Main. 

He  might  have  stepped  forward,  into  the 
open,  to  her,  "and  no  one  but  Jacinta  would 
have  known.  Perhaps  he  was  about  to  do 
so  ;  but  suddenly  there  appeared,  on  the  hill 
top  beside  them,  a  tall  figure  dressed  in  a 
purple  gown,  with  hood  and  trimmings  of 
bright  scarlet,  looking  like  a  fuchsia  flower ; 
on  his  head  was  a  little  black  velvet  covering 
shaped  half  like  a  crown.  It  was  the  young 
Jesuit,  the  Archbishop  of  the  Guianas.  Do 
lores  rose  and  kissed  his  hand,  bending  the 
knee  respectfully ;  he  sat  down  beside  her. 


IV. 


THE  Condesa  de  Luna,  the  orphan  daugh 
ter  of  dead  parents  who  represented 
both  branches  of  a  famous  old  Gothic  fam 
ily,  already  known  about  the  capital  for  her 
beauty,  was  known  far  and  wide  as  the  rich 
est  heiress  in  all  Venezuela  and  Guiana ; 
her  prairies  stretched  from  the  ocean  to 
the  Apure,  her  herds  so  countless  that  they 
roamed  wild  upon  pampas  which  were  hers, 
hunted  by  peons  who  were  hers.  The  old 
stone  castle  with  the  Spanish  arms  was 
hers,  and  another  like  it  stood  empty  for 
her  in  far  Madrid.  Her  guardian,  the  Mar 
quis  del  Torre,  was  a  poor  man  beside  her ; 
and  his  nephew,  Don  Ramon,  poorer  still. 

Dolores  was  brought  up  as  follows  :  At 
five  she  rose,  and  went,  with  Jacinta,  to  early 
mass — nearly  always  to  a  different  church,  as 
is  the  seemly  custom  in  Caracas,  lest  young 
men  should  take  advantage  of  it  and  take 


LOS   CARAQUER08  151 

position  behind  the  chairs  of  their  adored 
ones  in  church,  where  they  could  not  be  re 
pelled  ;  for,  of  course,  no  young  gentleman, 
however  madly  in  love,  would  insult  his  lady 
by  accosting  her  in  the  open  street.  After 
mass,  at  six,  being  the  time  of  sunrise  and 
by  comparison  safe,  Jaciuta  would  take  her 
charge  for  a  walk,  usually  on  the  Calvareo, 
then  deserted.  At  seven  they  would  be  home, 
and  then  in  the  great  court-yard,  under  the 
palms  and  rose-red  orchids,  Dolores  would 
take  her  lessons — French,  English,  music — 
all  from  priests.  At  eleven,  bath  ;  at  twelve, 
breakfast ;  then  reading,  perhaps  a  siesta  in 
a  hammock  made  of  birds'  plumage.  So  she 
passed  her  days,  all  in  the  half-light  of  the 
great  court-yard ;  only  toward  sunset  again 
would  she  see  the  open  sky,  driving  with  one 
of  her  two  governesses  in  the  state  carriage 
down  the  broad  valley  to  where  the  wheel 
road  stopped,  and  back  again ;  or  more  rare 
ly,  as  on  this  night,  venturing  on  another 
walk.  And  all  the  youth  of  Caracas  would 
gaze  after  her  carriage  ;  the  young  men  driv 
ing  out  too,  by  themselves,  in  carriages,  who 
had  passed  their  days  more  in  gambling  or 
cock  -  fighting  than  with  books  and  music ; 


152  LOS   CARAQUEX08 

never,  indeed,  at  mass.  For  here  the  lords  of 
creation  vent  their  authority  in  ordaining 
their  wives  and  sisters  to  the  Church  and 
goodness,  themselves  to  evil.  But  the  most 
hardened  duellist  among  them  could  no 
more  than  look  at  Dolores  ;  only  her  reckless 
cousin  Ramon  would  venture  to  ride  athwart 
her  carriage,  and  presume  upon  his  cousin- 
ship  to  bow. 

Yet  intercourse  is  possible  always  betwixt 
young  people  who  seek  each  other  out ;  and 
all  Caracas  gave  Eamon  to  her  for  her  suitor. 
And  to-night  even,  as  he.stood  and  glowered 
at  the  Archbishop  from  behind  the  tree-ferns, 
he  had  another  chance.  For  there  is,  and 
was,  one  more  strange  custom  in  this  strange 
city ;  at  the  sunset  hour  the  young  ladies  of 
Caracas,  all  in  their  gayest  dresses,  sit  in  the 
great  open  windows  and  look  upon  the  street 
— a  curious  sight  it  is  to  see  the  bright  eyes 
and  white  throats  thrust,  like  birds  from  a 
cage,  through  the  iron  bars  of  the  sombre 
stone  windows.  (For  no  wind  or  cold  ever 
needs  a  window  of  glass  in  that  perpetual 
perfect  weather ;  the  high  sun  never  makes 
a  shutter  needful  in  the  narrow  streets.) 
And  there  they  sit,  unoccupied;  and  the 


LOS  CARAQUEROS  153 

young  men  of  the  city,  dressed  also  in  their 
best,  walk  by  as  slowly,  and  look  as  linger- 
ingly,  as  they  dare  ;  and  perhaps,  if  the  dark 
shadow  of  mamma  or  the  duefia  does  not 
come  out  too  quickly  from  the  inner  room, 
a  few  quick  words  are  spoken,  and  a  flower 
left  or  given.  And  what  says  the  old  proverb 
of  the  Caraquenos  ? 

"  Better  two  words  in  secret  than  a  thousand 
openly." 

Sebastian  Buy,  Marques  del  Torre,  too, 
was  bred  as  a  young  nobleman  of  oldest  lin 
eage  should  be,  or  should  have  been,  in  that 
early  eighteenth  century  that  still  lingered 
then  in  the  Andes.  But  this  took  him  to  Mad 
rid  and  to  Paris  in  the  years  VII.  and  VIII. ; 
and  the  eighteenth  century,  as  one  knows, 
ended  in  those  wee  small  numbers.  Torre 
came  back  to  plunge  his  country  in  a  revolu 
tion  which  lasted  intermittently,  like  one  of 
its  own  volcanoes,  for  more  than  twenty  years. 
The  young  Parisian  etudiant  began  his  first 
emeute  in  Caracas  itself,  with  a  barricade 
after  the  orthodox  fashion  of  the  years  I.  and 
II.  This  being  quickly  suppressed — partly 
that  there  were  no  pavements,  and  partly  that 
each  house  was  an  impregnable  fortress — but 


154  .       LOS  CARAQUESOS 

mostly  that  the  city  was  of  the  governing  class 
and  stood  with  Spain — Torre  had  had  to  leave 
the  capital  for  the  pampas,  where,  for  over 
twelve  years,  he  maintained  discursive  war 
fare  with  a  changeable  command  of  Indians 
and  peons,  which,  however,  on  the  whole,  in 
creased  in  numbers,  officered  by  a  few  young 
gentlemen,  under  himself.  His  marquisate 
he  forgot,  and  sought  to  make  others  forget  it. 
He  was,  throughout  Venezuela,  The  General. 
He  had  never  been  back  within  the  walls  of 
Caracas ;  and,  at  nearly  forty,  he  learned  of 
his  only  aunt's  death  following  his  uncle's, 
and  of  the  little  girl  they  left,  and  of  his 
guardianship. 

A  little  girl  she  appeared  to  his  imagina 
tion  on  the  pampas  ;  when  he  got  to  Caracas, 
she  was  a  young  woman.  The  General's  locks 
were  already  grizzled  and  his  face  weather- 
beaten  with  ten  years'  open  life  on  the  plains  ; 
his  face  was  marked,  close  beside  the  eye, 
with  the  scar  of  a  sabre.  He  had  one  inter 
view  with  Dolores,  saw  her  nurse,  her  in 
structors,  her  father  confessor ;  heard  stories 
about  his  nephew  Don  Ramon,  which 
troubled  him,  went  back  to  camp. 

Then  intervened  a  brief  campaign  in  the 


LOS   CARAQUESOS  155 

mountains  of  the  Isla  Margarita ;  Torre  went 
there  to  take  command.  This  is  the  famed 
old  island  of  pearls ;  they  lie  there  in  the 
reefs  amid  the  bones  of  men  and  ships. 
Torre  found  no  pearls,  but  he  defeated  the 
royal  troops  in  the  first  engagement  re 
sembling  an  open  battle  he  had  ventured 
fight.  This  matter  settled,  he  lay  awake 
at  night,  and  thought  about  his  new  ward. 
Further  tidings  reached  him  from  Caracas, 
of  his  nephew.  It  was  said  young  Eamon 
boasted  he  would  marry  her.  Then  the 
King,  as  is  the  royal  way  after  defeat  in  bat 
tle,  made  further  concessions  to  the  "Lib 
erals,"  as  the  revolutionists  were  called  ;  and 
in  the  coaxing  amity  of  the  time,  Torre  was 
permitted,  nay,  invited,  to  return  to  the  capi 
tal.  He  did  so,  and  was  immediately  ten 
dered  a  banquet  by  the  royal  Governor,  and 
a  ball  at  which  his  ward  was  present.  The 
royal  Governor  and  his  lady  sat  beneath  a  pa 
vilion,  webbed  of  the  scarlet  and  gold  of 
Spain.  The  Countess  Dolores  came  and  curt 
sied  deeply  to  them ;  then  she  rose  the  taller 
for  it,  and  as  she  turned  haughtily  away  they 
saw  that  she  was  almost  robed  in  pearls  ; 
three  strands  about  her  neck  and  six  about 


156  LOS  CARAQUE30S 

her  waist ;  and  the  ribbon  in  her  mantilla  was 
pale  green,  white,  and  red.  El  Gobernador 
only  smiled  at  this,  the  liberal  tricolor,  and 
made  a  pretty  speech  about  it ;  but  the  vice 
regal  lady  made  some  ill-natured  reference  to 
the  pearls,  as  spoils  from  Margarita.  Don 
Kamon  was  standing  by  and  heard  it.  The 
General  saw  it  not. 

After  the  formal  dance  the  General  went 
up  to  compliment  his  ward.  This  was  the 
first  time  he  had  seen  her  since  his  return ; 
for  even  he  could  not  call  save  in  the  pres 
ence  of  the  family;  and  she  had  no  other 
family  than  himself.  He  could  not  call  on 
her  until — unless — he  married  her.  He  said, 
"I  am  glad  my  lady  Countess  is  kinder  to 
our  colors  than  my  nephew."  He  watched 
her  as  he  said  this ;  she  started,  and  at  the 
end  of  the  sentence  blushed.  He  saw  her 
blush.  Then  he  bowed,  as  if  to  retire. 

"  The  pearls,"  she  said,  hastily,  "  are  all  I 
have  ;  see  !  "  And  the  Marquis,  bowing,  saw 
that  the  neck -strands  were  not  a  necklace, 
but  after  passing  thrice  around  her  neck,  de 
scended  to  be  lost  in  the  laces  of  her  dress. 

The  Marquis  ended  his  bow,  and  went  back 
to  camp.  Next  week  there  came  an  Indian 


LOS  CARAQUE808  157 

soldier  to  Dolores  with  a  box  of  island  pearls ; 
they  were  large  as  grapeshot,  and  went  thrice 
about  her  waist.  But  the  General  no  longer 
contradicted  her  engagement  to  his  nephew. 


V. 


THE  General  had  never  known  women ; 
he  had  only  known  what  men  (and 
women,  too)  say  of  women.  At  Paris,  and 
Madrid,  he  had  seen  his  friends  see  dancers, 
figurantes  ;  he  did  not  confound  other  women 
with  these,  but  he  had  known  none  other. 
Of  girls,  in  particular,  he  was  ignorant.  A 
man  of  Latin  race  never  sees  a  girl  ;  in 
America,  North  America,  it  is  different,  and 
one  sometimes  wonders  if  we  justify  it. 

Some  weeks  after  the  General  got  back  to 
his  camp  (which  was  high  up  amid  the  huge 
mountain,  the  first  mainland  that  Columbus 
saw,  which  fends  the  Gulf  of  Paria  from  the 
sea),  he  was  astounded  by  the  appearance 
of  no  less  a  person  than  his  nephew  Ramon. 
He  had  broken  with  the  royal  cause,  he  said, 
and  come  to  seek  service  beneath  his  uncle. 
He  did  not  say  what  statement  he  had  left 
behind  him  in  Caracas — no  explanation  was 


LOS  CARAQUEROS  159 

necessary  in  the  then  Venezuela  for  joining 
any  war — but  how  he  had  justified  his  delay 
ing  his  coming  nuptials  with  Dolores.  For  he 
loyed  her,  this  young  fellow ;  yet  he  said — al 
lowed  it  to  be  said — that  in  the  process  de  se 
ranger,  in  the  process  of  arrangement,  for  his 
bride,  that  she  might  find  her  place  unoccu 
pied,  certain  other  arrangements  had  been 
necessary  which  took  time. 

He  did  not  tell  this  story  to  his  uncle,  who 
took  him  and  sought  to  make  a  soldier  of 
him.  Not  this  story ;  but  he  told  him  that  he 
loved  Dolores ;  and  his  uncle — was  he  not 
twenty  years  younger  ? — believed  him.  Twen 
ty  years,  or  fifteen ;  'tis  little  difference  when 
you  pass  the  decade. 

But  the  General  found  him  hard  material 
to  work  up.  He  was  ready  enough  at  a  pri 
vate  brawl ;  ready  enough,  if  the  humor  struck 
him,  to  go  at  the  enemy  ;  but  not  to  lead  his 
men  there.  And  his  men  were  readier  to 
gamble  with  him  than  to  follow  him  ;  though 
brave  enough,  in  a  way. 

Yet  the  General  Marquis  blinded  his  faults 
— aye,  and  paid  his  debts — for  when  he  lost 
at  "pharaon"  a  certain  pearl  he  wore,  the 
uncle  bought  it  back  for  him,  with  a  cau- 


160  LOS   CARAQUE808 

tion  to  risk  his  money,  not  his  honor ;  at 
which  the  young  captain  grit  his  teeth,  and 
would  have  challenged  any  but  a  creditor. 
And  when  a  certain  girl,  a  Spanish  woman, 
followed  him  to  camp,  del  Torre  knew  of  it, 
and  helped  Ramon  to  bid  her  go  ;  and  if  the 
General  thought  the  worse  of  him,  he  did  not 
think  Dolores  loved  him  less ;  for  was  not 
Sebastian  himself  brought  up  on  that  cruel 
half-truth  that  some  women  still  do  their  sex 
the  harm  to  make  a  whole  one  ?  that  women 
love  a  rake  reformed.  Then  came  a  battle,  and 
both  were  wounded,  and  more  concessions 
from  his  Catholic  Majesty;  and  in  their  wake 
the  wounded  gentlemen  went  back  to  Caracas. 

The  General's  hair  was  grayer,  and  in  that 
stay  again  he  saw  Dolores  only  once,  and 
that  was  in  church.  At  mass,  high  mass,  Te 
Deum,  for  the  Catholic  Majesty's  concessions, 
Don  Ramon  stood  behind  her  chair ;  and  del 
Torre  saw  them  from  a  pillar  opposite,  and 
again  the  girl  countess  blushed.  And  after 
mass  the  new  Archbishop  met  him  in  the 
street  and  talked — of  him,  and  of  his  ward, 
and  of  Don  Ramon. 

"He  is  a  graceless  reprobate,"  said  this 
peon-priest. 


LOS  CARAQUEftOS  161 

The  Marquis  sighed.     "A  soldier — for  a 
brave  man  there  is  always  hope." 

The  Archbishop  eyed  him. 

"  She  loves  him  ?  " 

"  She  loves  him." 

"  He  is  poor !  " 

"  She  is  rich." 

"You  should  marry  her,"  said  the  Arch 
bishop,  and  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

A  week  after  he  met  them  all  again ;  and 
this  was  that  evening  in  the  garden. 
11 


VI. 


NOW,  this  arch-priest  had  been  a  peon, 
and  a  soldier  in  del  Torre's  army ;  and 
then  he  had  left  it,  and  had  seen  the  viceroy 
and  been  traitor  to  the  rebels,  and  so  became 
a  priest ;  and  then,  heaven  and  the  vice-queen 
knew  how,  bishop ;  and  but  that  his  archi- 
episcopal  credentials  were  now  fresh  from 
Rome,  del  Torre,  still  a  Catholic,  had  called 
him  traitor !  Del  Torre  could  not  like  the 
man,  though  he  stood  between  him  and  God  ; 
and  he  knew  that  disliking  must  be  mutual ; 
and  he  marvelled,  simple  soldier !  that  the 
intoxicating  message  came  from  him.  But 
he  put  this  cup  of  heaven  from  his  lips. 

For  del  Torre,  from  his  fierce  August  of 
war,  had  learned  to  love  this  April  maiden 
with  all  his  heart,  and  with  all  his  life  and 
his  strong  soul.  Were  not  his  hairs  gray, 
and  his  face  so  worn  and  weather-beaten? 


LOS  CARAQUEROS  1C3 

And  his  heart — he  had  none  fit  for  this  lady 
of  the  light.  Enough  that  it  was  his  pearls 
that  clasped  her  slender  waist. 

The  Archbishop,  too,  had  seen  his  gray 
hairs  ;  yet  he  thought  that  it  was  best  ?  He 
had  said  so.  Perhaps  he  wanted  her  pos 
sessions  for  the  Church.  His  nephew  Don 
Ramon  cursed  the  Archbishop  for  sitting 
there  that  night,  and  saying  to  her — what  ? 
Novitiate  and  convent,  perhaps,  or  his  own 
sins.  For  the  lady  Dolores  Avas  devout  as 
only  girls  can  be  who  have  warm  hearts  and 
noble  souls,  and  are  brought  up  in  cloisters. 

Del  Torre  stood  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Calvary  hill,  where  the  sunset  lay,  and  looked 
at  it,  dimly — for  his  heart  was  breaking ; 
the  Archbishop  kept  close  his  converse  with 
Dolores ;  perhaps  he  saw  her  fiery  younger 
lover  lurking  in  the  branches.  She  rose — 
she  and  Jacinta  —  and  the  priest  walked 
home  with  them.  He  talked  to  her  of  neph 
ew  Ramon  and  his  crimes  —  not  his  sins 
with  women,  for  the  priest,  too,  was  a  crafty 
man,  and  did  her  sex  no  honor — but  of  his 
gambling,  his  brawling,  his  unsaintliness. 
He  said  Ramon  was  a  coward ;  and  when 
Dolores'  pale  cheek  reddened,  he  marked  it 


1C4  LOS  CARAQUESOS 

again  ;  and  when  she  broke  at  this,  he  told 
her  a  trumped-up  story  of  his  last  battle 
under  his  grave  uncle.  For  Dolores,  noble 
maiden,  had  not  yet  confessed  her  life's  love 
to  herself — how  then  to  her  confessor  ? 

The  Archbishop  walked  slowly  home  with 
her,  Jacinta  just  behind,  and  left  her  under 
that  old  stone  scutcheon  on  the  door.  Del 
Torre  and  Don  Eamon  lingered  behind ;  and 
when  they  had  passed  her  window,  she  was 
sitting  there,  looking  weary.  The  old  Gen 
eral  passed  by,  sweeping  off  his  hat,  his  eyes 
on  the  ground.  He  had  been  talking  to  the 
youth  of  all  the  duties  of  his  life  and  love; 
but  Ramon  was  inattentive,  watching  for  her. 
As  they  passed  her  window  Eamon  lingered, 
daring  a  word  to  Dolores  through  the  iron 
bars.  He  asked  her  for  a  rose  she  wore.  She 
looked  at  him  a  moment,  then  gave  it  to  him, 
with  a  message.  The  Marquis  saw  her  give 
the  rose  ;  he  did  not  hear  the  message.  Don 
Eamon  did  ;  and  his  face  turned  the  color  of 
a  winter  leaf.  As  he  walked  on,  he  crushed 
the  rose,  then  threw  it  in  the  gutter.  For  the 
girl,  womanlike,  had  told  the  rival  first. 

That  night  Eamon  intoxicated  himself  in 
some  tavern  brawl.  He  had  a  companion 


LOS  CARAQUEROS  165 

with  him,  not  of  his  own  sex;  and  when 
another  officer  reproached  him  with  it,  for 
his  cousin,  he  swore  that  he  would  marry 

her,  and  that  she  had  been Then  they 

fought  a  duel,  and  both  were  wounded. 


YII. 

THE  General  heard  of  it  the  next  morning, 
and  it  was  even  the  Archbishop  brought 
him  the  news.  The  priest  besought  del  Torre 
to  marry  his  ward,  but  he  was  obdurate ;  the 
crafty  priest  wrestled  with  the  soldier's  will 
all  through  that  day,  and  neither  conquered. 
But  the  General's  face  looked  worn ;  he  ar 
gued,  only  sadly,  of  the  hot  blood  of  youth, 
of  the  hope  in  her  love  for  the  nephew,  and 
of  his  bravery.  Then  late  in  the  day  came 
the  young  officer,  wounded,  the  bandage  on 
his  breast  half  stanching  the  heart's  blood  he 
had  shed  for  her,  and  besought  the  general 
not  to  give  her  to  Don  Ramon.  Del  Torre 
stood  as  if  at  bay.  "  You  love  her  too  ?  "  he 
cried. 

"  Ay,  and  would  save  her,"  said  the  young 
man,  faintly. 

"  You  must  protect  her  from  this  libertine," 


LOS   CARAQUENOS  167 

then  said  the  priest.  For  he  wished  her  to 
marry  the  one  he  thought  she  loved  not. 

"  She  loves  him  !  "  sighed  the  General. 

"  You  must  save  her " 

"  I  will  live  with  her,  and  guard  her  as  my 
own— 

"  You  may  not,"  said  the  priest. 

"  I  am  her  guardian " 

"  You  may  not — you  must  marry  her." 

"  I  am  old  and  she  is  young " 

"  The  holy  Church  demands  it !  " 

"  I  love  her  not — I "  the  lie  stuck  in 

his  lips. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  del  Torre  went  to 
see  Dolores.  She  was  at  vesper  service,  and 
he  waited  until  she  came  back,  pale.  He  be 
gan  to  speak.  "  I  have  heard  all,"  she  inter 
rupted  ;  "  Jacinta  told  me."  And  again  he 
saw  her  blush. 

Del  Torre  groaned;  he  turned  aside. 
Then  he  strode  back  to  her,  his  sabre  clank 
ing  as  he  walked.  "  God  forgive  me  if  I  err. 
Dolores,  you  may  not  marry  this  man — you 
— you  must — Sefiorita  Condesa,  will  you 
marry  me  ?  " 

Dolores  looked  up  ;  she  had  been  red,  she 
was  now  pale.  So  blushes  lie. 


168  LOS  CARAQUESOS 

"  Santissima  Maria,"  she  said,  below  her 
breath. 

"  The  Church — the  Archbishop — demand 
it,"  del  Torre  hurried  on,  not  looking  at  her, 
for  he  heard  her  exclamation.  "  I  love  you 
— well  enough — to  wed  you."  The  soldier's 
voice  broke,  too  feeble  now  to  cry  a  charge. 
He  never  saw  her  look  at  him.  God  pardon 
him  for  looking  down. 

"You  love  me — well  enough  to  wed  me 

"  She  had  turned  red  again,  and  her 

voice  was  low.  He  looked,  and  saw  it. 

"  I  will  keep  you,  and  watch  over  you, 
Dolores,  with  my  life.  The  Church  de 
mands  it — I  am  but  a  soldier-^Avill  you 
marry  me  ?  " 

Her  dark  head  was  bowed,  and  the  purple 
of  her  eyes  he  saw  not. 

"Yes,"  she  said;  but,  oh,  so  gravely,  so 
coldly ! 

He  bowed  ceremoniously,  and  touched  her 
hand  to  his  lips;  then  he  turned  and  left 
the  stone-walled  tropic  garden.  And  as  his 
sabre  clanked  in  the  passage-way,  she  threw 
herself  on  the  hammock  in  a  flood  of  tears. 

And  that  is  how  they  were  affianced. 


VIII. 

love  of  a  man  for  a  girl  is  perhaps  dif- 
1  f erent  from  any  other  passion  our  souls  on 
earth  are  tempered  with.  Daphnis  and  Chloe 
are  pretty,  natural,  charming  to  paint  and 
write  vers  de  societe  about ;  but  so  simple  as 
to  be  shallow,  so  natural  as  to  be  replaceable. 
To  Daphnis,  we  know  that  any  other  Chloe 
will  be  Chloe  too.  And  they  are  in  reality 
selfish  ;  they  seek  the  consummation  of  their 
wishes :  he  his,  she  hers.  It  may  be  the 
same  human  energy ;  but  in  the  fierce,  almost 
blasphemous,  self-abnegation  of  the  man's 
love,  it  seems  as  different  a  manifestation  as 
the  earth-rending  power  of  freezing  water 
from  the  swelling  of  a  bud  at  spring.  The 
man  can  renounce  his  love  ;  but  he  desires 
her  well-being  with  a  will  to  which  murder  is 
an  incident  and  the  will  divine  but  an  obsta 
cle  to  be  overcome. 


170  LOS  CARAQUE808 

The  Archbishop  had  told  del  Torre  that  his 
nephew  had  been  married  already — secretly, 
but  married — married  to  the  woman  who 
came  to  seek  him  out  at  the  camp.  Against 
this  wall  del  Torre's  will  had  been  beating 
in  vain  before  his  own  betrothal  to  Dolores 
was  announced.  If  she  could  not  marry  Ra 
mon,  it  might,  indeed,  be  best  she  married 
him.  But  it  was  with  a  fierce  suspicion  he 
received  his  friends'  congratulations  at  his 
club  and  camp.  Among  his  officers  no  other 
look  or  accent  mingled  with  an  unaffected 
joy.  But  in  the  city,  he  fancied — he  was 
ever  ready  to  fancy — among  the  young  men, 
a  shade  of  irony  in  their  congratulations  on 
his  happiness.  Was  he  not  so  old ! 

Don  Ramon  heard  of  it  from  Jacinta.  Ja- 
cinta  was  on  the  side  of  the  younger  man. 
She  looked  upon  del  Torre's  gray  hairs  with 
fierce  eyes.  Ramon's  liquid  voice  and  peachy 
lip  had  fascinated  this  supple  creature  of  the 
forest.  Don  Ramon  heard  ;  and  his  own  an 
swer  was  characteristic. 

"  The  old  fool !  " 

Jacinta  nodded  impatiently.  She  asked 
him  for  a  message  back.  He  took  pen  and 
paper  and  wrote  : 


LOS  CARAQUEftOS  171 

"  SENORITA  CONDESA  :  Thou  lovest  me. 
On  the  morning  thou  shalt  wed  Don  Sebas 
tian  I  kill  him. 

"BAMON  DEL  TORRE." 

He  read  it  over ;  then  he  stopped  and 
thought.  His  first  impulse  was  to  boast ;  his 
second,  to  intrigue.  He  was  not  all  tiger ; 
something  of  the  serpent  lay  within  the  hand 
some  youth. 

"  I  will  send  it  this  evening,"  he  said  to 
Jacinta.  And  in  the  evening  this  is  what  he 
wrote : 

"  SENORITA  CONDESA  :  The  Archbishop  is 
my  enemy  and  makes  my  uncle  marry  you. 
Have  you  confessed  to  him?  Surely,  you 
have  loved  me  ?  On  the  day  he  marries  you 
he  shall  kill  your 

"  EAMON." 

This  letter  he  sent.  So  he  played  upon  the 
poor  girl's  conscience,  that  as  a  child  she  had 
given  him  a  smile ;  and  bragged  even  to  her 
that  he  had  had  her  heart.  This  was  Thurs 
day,  March  19,  1812.  The  marriage  was  set 
for  the  26th.  Eamon  went  to  the  club,  the 


172  LOS  CARAQUER08 

cafe  which  served  as  club  to  the  aristocracy 
of  Caracas,  and  announced  publicly  that  his 
uncle  was  forcing  his  ward  to  marry  him 
against  his  will.  The  General,  when  this 
story  was  brought  to  him,  winced,  but  only 
replied  :  "  My  nephew  knows  I  cannot  fight 
him  ;  I  must  leave  my  honor  to  the  kind 
opinion  of  my  friends."  This  speech  was 
repeated — "to  the  kindness  of  my  friends;  " 
and  that  night  a  dozen  young  gentlemen 
called  upon  the  marquis  and  asked  to  be  per 
mitted  to  provoke  Don  Eamon.  The  Gen 
eral  refused  it  to  all,  with  one  wave  of  his 
hand.  "  I  marry  my  ward  for  family  rea 
sons  ;  my  nephew  must  be  permitted  to 
make  what  criticism  he  chooses." 

Don  Eamon  then  announced  his  uncle  a 
coward,  and  promised  to  prevent  the  mar 
riage  by  force.  Del  Torre  took  no  notice. 
Jacinta  had  taken  the  letter  to  Dolores,  but 
Eamon  got  no  reply.  After  his  last  threat, 
however,  he  received  a  call  from  a  Jesuit 
priest,  who  was  sent  by  the  Archbishop  and 
hinted  of  the  Inquisition.  Then  the  young 
man  was  silent  for  two  days,  and  in  devour 
ing  his  rage  he  produced  this  letter  to  Do 
lores  : 


LOS  CARAQUESOS  173 

" DOLORES:  Hast  tliou  confessed?  And 
why  no  answer  to  me  ? 

"  For  death  (para  la  muerle), 

"RAMON." 

To  this  Jacinta  brought  back  a  line  : 

"I  shall  confess  upon  my  wedding-day. 
My  answer  to  my  husband,  with  the  message 
that  your  Honour "  (V.,  only,  in  Spanish) 
"  did  not  give. 

"  DOLORES,  CONDESA  DE  LUNA." 

For  Ramon  had  never  given  the  message 
that  went  with  the  rose. 

All  this  was  in  Holy  Week.  Palm  Sunday 
passed  ;  the  Wednesday  came  ;  Holy  Thurs 
day  was  the  day  fixed  for  the  wedding — by 
the  Archbishop's  special  will. 

Now,  it  must  be  remembered  that  in  all 
this  time  del  Torre  had  spoken  with  Dolores 
face  to  face  three  times,  and  three  times 
only.  Each  time  he  had  seen  her  he  had 
mentioned  his  nephew's  name,  and  each  time 
she  had  changed  color.  He  would  have  mar 
ried  her  to  Don  Ramon  could  he  have  done 
so ;  even  now  he  had  dared  but  for  Ramon's 


LOS   CARAQUEROS 

own  conduct.  But  all  this  time  del  Torre 
was  in  an  agony  of  doubt,  through  which  even 
Ramon's  insults  could  not  penetrate.  He 
would  have  sent  Dolores  to  a  convent,  but 
the  archbishop  forbade  it ;  the  priest  feared 
not  Don  Ramon  against  Don  Sebastian; 
perhaps,  however,  he  feared  him  at  the  con 
vent  doors.  But  all  this  time  del  Torre  had 
seen  Dolores  twice  a  day,  at  mass,  where  he 
went  and  gazed  upon  her,  dim  through  in 
cense. 


IX. 


ON  Wednesday  morning  the  Marquis  del 
Torre  had  a  last  interview  with  his 
bride.  She  was  to  go  to  her  last  maidenly 
confession  on  that  day ;  and  he  called  early  in 
the  morning,  in  his  uniform  as  General  of  the 
Liberal  army.  When  he  came  upon  her  she 
was  all  in  white  and  girt  about  with  pearls. 
Pearls  were  in  her  dark  hair,  pearls  in  the 
folds  of  her  white  dress,  pearls  in  her  neck, 
no  other  color  about  her  save  the  magic  ame 
thystine  in  her  eyes.  Her  face  was  pale. 

Del  Torre  bowed  over  her  hand,  then 
stood  beside  her.  After  the  greeting,  he 
said: 

"Seilorita  Dolores,  I  am  still  your  guardian 
— I  would  only  marry  you  to  make  you 
happy.  Do  you  think  I  can  ? "  His  lips 
were  paler  than  hers,  and  his  voice  sounded 
cold.  She  only  answered  : 

"  Quite  sure,  sefior." 


176  LOS  CARAQUEXOS 

"  And  the  rose  I  saw  you  give  my  nephew 
—is  it  dead  ?  " 

Again  the  rush  of  color  to  her  face ;  but, 
after  a  start,  she  answered,  "It  is  dead." 
She  stammered  slightly,  trying  to  say  more  ; 
to  relieve  her  embarrassment  he  rose  and  left 
her.  "  Hasta  mafiaHa  !  " 

"  Manana  por  la  mailana,"  she  answered, 
forcing  brightness  in  her  voice.  The  mar 
quis  went  out  into  the  sunlight ;  he  felt  his 
heart  as  cold  as  hers. 

But  again  Dolores  "burst  into  tears ;  then, 
quickly  drying  them,  she  wrote  a  letter  and 
sealed  it.  Then  she  called  Jacinta. 

The  Indian  nurse  came  quickly,  and  as 
she  stood  looking  at  Dolores  a  dog's  love 
was  in  her  eyes.  "  This  letter — the  mar 
quis  must  have  it  in  the  morning,"  said  the 
countess. 

"  He  shall  have  it — in  the  morning,"  an 
swered  Jacinta.  Then  Dolores  went  to  her 
confessor.  And  Jacinta  could  not  read  the 
letter  ;  so  she  took  it  to  Don  Eamon  first, 
and  asked  him  what  it  was.  And  it  was 
Don  Eamon  read  it,  Jacinta  looking  on. 

Then  Eamon  girt  his  sword  about  him,  and 
went  to  mass. 


THE  soldiers  in  Caracas  march  to  mass 
and  the  service  is  performed  at  beat  of 
drum.  At  the  muffled  tap  of  a  march  the 
regiment  files  in  to  fill  the  nave,  and  kneels, 
ringing  their  bayonets  upon  the  stones ;  the 
people  fill  the  sides,  and  stand  behind  the  col 
umns  on  the  aisles.  The  General  was  there, 
as  usual,  but  he  could  not  see  Dolores ;  she  was 
kneeling  at  a  shrine  upon  one  side,  a  shrine 
of  Mary,  Mother  of  Pity.  All  the  pictures 
and  gold  images  were  heavily  draped  in  crape, 
for  it  was  Holy  Week.  The  brazen  trumpets 
of  the  military  band  sounded  through  the 
Kyrie  Eleison  ;  the  church  was  dark,  for  every 
woman  was  in  black  until  Good  Friday,  and 
the  crape  hangings  shrouded  close  the  walls. 
Del  Torre  stood  erect  in  his  green  uniform, 
but,  save  for  his  figure,  the  nave  was  a  mass 
of  red  and  gold  and  glittering  steel.  He 
looked  for  her  ;  he  looked  back  to  the  doors 
12 


178  LOS  CARAQUESOS 

which  were  thrown  back  inward ;  from  the 
dark,  shrouded  church  he  looked  through  in 
to  the  empty  square,  blazing  with  the  zenith 
sun  of  the  equinox.  Again  a  muffled  drum 
beat,  and  the  regiment  knelt,  with  a  rattle  of 
their  bayonets,  upon  the  stones ;  it  was  the 
elevation  of  the  host,  and  he,  too,  knelt  and 
crossed  himself. 

"When  mass  was  over,  the  soldiers  filed 
out  first ;  as  del  Torre  followed,  he  met  the 
wounded  captain  again,  with  bloodless  cheeks. 
"  You  are  too  pale  to  be  out,  sir,"  said  the 
General,  almost  lovingly,  his  hand  resting 
lightly  on  the  other's  shoulder. 

"  Don  Ramon  is  outside,"  he  answered. 

"  I  have  no  fear — the  youth  is  mad,"  said 
del  Torre. 

It  is  the  custom  in  Spanish  America,  now 
forgotten  in  old  Spain,  to  lead  the  holy  images 
of  the  church  about  the  streets,  with  a  slow 
processional,  before  Good  Friday.  As  del 
Torre  spoke,  they  found  themselves  behind 
one  of  these.  In  this  Church  of  Santa  Tere- 
sia  is  a  famed  old  image  of  Christ  bearing 
the  Cross,  brought  two  centuries  before  from 
Spain.  It  is  especially  venerated  by  the 
merchants  of  Caracas ;  large  sums  are  sub- 


LOS  CARAQUEROS  179 

scribed  by  them  each  Easter  time  to  dress  it 
up,  thousands  of  dollars  and  doubloons.  Be 
hind  this  image  now  they  found  themselves. 
Eight  chanting  priests,  in  mourning  black 
and  lilac,  bore  it  on  either  side,  but  the 
image  was  gay  with  beaten  gold,  borne 
in  a  canopy  of  costly  lace,  a  hundred  tall 
wax  candles  giving  light.  The  priests  move 
very  slowly,  scarce  a  step  a  minute,  making 
stations  at  each  shrine,  so  that  to  bear  these 
images  from  one  church  to  another  may  take 
half  a  day.  Del  Torre  and  the  wounded 
officer  could  not,  of  course,  pass  it ;  so  that 
it  was  half  an  hour  when  they  reached  the 
open  air,  and  the  square  nearly  emptied  of 
the  worshippers ;  del  Torre  heard  the  dis 
tant  band  of  the  army  down  the  mountain 
slope. 

As  they  came  out  into  the  heat,  he  felt  a 
slight  shudder,  like  a  quiver  of  the  earth,  and 
thought  it  was  the  shock  of  seeing  his  nephew. 
Don  Ramon  del  Torre  spoke  loudly,  disre 
garding  the  presence  of  the  bystanders,  press 
ing  rudely  by  the  sacred  shrine,  and  crying 
that  the  old  man  would  not  fight. 

"  There  stands  the  old  man  that  will  wed 
my  cousin." 


180  LOS  CARAQUESOS 

"  Mention  not  her  name,"  said  General  del 
Torre 

"  I  would  kill  him  first,  but  that  his  old 
blood  dare  not  spill  itself  for  her." 

"  Mention  not  her  name,"  said  del  Tor 
re .  Then  Kamon's  voice  hissed  louder. 

"  My  cousin  Dolores  de  Luna  that  has  been 
my  mistress " 

That  night  a  Jesuit  priest,  leaving  the 
King's  House,  where  he  had  confessed  Do 
lores,  ran  hastily  to  the  Archbishop's.  While 
he  was  there,  another  frightened  messenger 
brought  the  news  that  Don  Sebastian  and  his 
nephew  had  been  fighting  on  Calvareo.  But 
Jacinta,  crying,  brought  the  news  to  the 
Countess  earlier,  how  Don  Sebastian  and 
Don  Ramon  at  last  had  met,  and  how  the 
nephew  lay  full  of  wounds  upon  the  Calvary, 
literally  cut  in  pieces,  killed  at  his  own  uncle's 
hands. 


XI. 


DOLOKES  spent  the  night  before  the  wed 
ding  kneeling  in  the  little  chapel  of  her 
dwelling.  So  we  read  that  Eastern  Catholics 
"  lay  all  that  night  in  the  form  of  a  cross." 
She  was  praying  for  her  husband  that  had 
been  to  be— perhaps  praying  that  he  might 
be  still,  praying  for  light  to  see  if  there  were 
sin  in  it.  Perhaps  she  had  remorses  of  her 
own.  She  had  known  the  dead  man  he  had 
killed  as  a  boy,  bold,  reckless,  wild ;  I  sup 
pose  she  had  looked  at  him  once  or  twice.  A 
Southern  maiden's  glances  return  to  torture 
her  when  they  have  led  to  blood;  prudent 
maids  of  other  climes  are  chary  of  them  for 
tradition  of  some  such  reason. 

Dolores  never  wept,  but  knelt  there,  dry- 
eyed,  praying.  In  intervals  she  thought, 
"  Would  he  be  well  enough  to  come  ?  "  as  she 
knew  that  he  was  gravely  wounded ;  but 
somehow  she  felt  sure  he  would ;  and  that  if 


182  LOS  CARAQUES08 

this  marriage-bond  were  sin,  he  would  ven 
ture  it  for  her  sake.  A  woman's  conscience 
rules  her  heart,  even  in  Spain ;  but  a  man, 
even  Roman  Catholic,  will  risk  his  own  per 
dition  to  save  her  sorrow,  or  that  no  sin  be 
hers.  She  must  save  him,  she  must  be  the 
judge.  And  sunrise  found  her  pale  but  de 
cided.  Then  she  called  Jacinta  to  her  side, 
and  asked  her  if  she  had  carried  to  her  hus 
band  (so  she  called  him)  her  note. 

Jacinta  looked  at  her  fiercely ;  but  at  the 
word  "Husband,"  started.  Then  she  said 
she  had  torn  it  up. 

At  the  Countess's  look  she  quailed,  and 
lied  again.  She  had  it  still,  she  said. 
Dolores  bade  her  give  it  to  him  as  he  came 
from  early  mass. 

Then  Jacinta  cried  and  told  the  truth. 
She  admitted  that  she  had  given  it  to  Don 
Earn  on. 

Dolores  heard  this  with  the  blood  about 
her  heart,  but  sat  there  silent,  while  the  In 
dian  woman  grovelled  at  her  feet.  It  was  her 
note,  then,  that  caused  the  duel. 

Then  mine,  too,  is  the  sin,  she  thought,  not 
his  alone;  and  this  thought  gave  her  joy. 
But  where  was  he  ?  was  he  strong  enough  to 


LOS  CARAQUEtfOS  183 

come  ?  She  took  her  writing-case  and  wrote 
an  exact  copy  of  her  other  note  ;  and  this  was 
what  she  had  said,  and  Kamon  had  read,  and 
then  had  fought  his  uncle  : 

"  SENOR  :  The  rose  you  asked  of  yesterday 
I  gave  Don  Kamon  ;  but  the  message  that 
went  with  it  was  given  him  for  you. 

"  MAKIA  JOSEPHA  DOLORES,  CONDESA  DE 

"  LUNA." 

As  she  finished  writing,  the  General  was 
announced.  His  face  was  bloodless,  but  his 
wounds  had  been  carefully  dressed,  so  that 
the  bandages  could  not  be  seen.  He  knelt 
over  her  hand,  though  the  kneeling  set  them 
bleeding  once  again.  But  Dolores,  timid 
only  in  her  love,  still  saw  but  remorse  and 
duty  in  his  eyes.  With  him  he  brought  his 
own  priest,  a  priest  from  the  Liberal  army. 
"  Pobra,"  he  said,  "  we  must  be  married  early 
— early  and  privately." 

She  sought  his  eyes  timidly  and  tried  to 
say  it ;  to  say  what  words  her  note  said  in 
her  hand.  But  she  could  not.  She  could 
only  say,  "  I  know — I  have  heard,"  and  she 
clenched  the  letter  closer  in  her  hand.  She 
could  not  give  it  to  him. 


184  /,0s  CARAQUE808 

Del  Torre's  face  could  not  turn  whiter. 
But  lie  said  :  "  Forgive  me — only  your  for 
giveness  I  can  ask.  At  noon,  then  ?  " 

"  At  noon."  She  saw  him  leave  the  house ; 
then,  then  she  turned  and  cried  to  Jacinta  : 
41  Bun,  run,  and  give  him  this  letter — at  the 
Cathedral." 

And  again,  upon  her  wedding-morning, 
Dolores  went  to  pray.  She  was  interrupted 
by  a  visit  from  the  Archbishop.  Some  pre 
sentiment  made  her  rise  in  apprehension ; 
and  as  she  stood  erect,  she  saw,  through  the 
priest,  the  man.  And  she  saw  that  he,  too, 
had  her  secret ;  first  the  lover,  then  the  priest, 
had  found  it  out. 

"  This  marriage  must  not  be,"  said  he. 

"  Holy  Father,  I  have  confessed  yesterday." 

"  This  marriage  must  not  be.  You  loved 
Don  Ramon." 

Dolores's  lips  curled.  "  I  confessed,  yes 
terday.  I  see  you  have  been  told." 

"  Yesterday  'twas  a  duty — to-day  it  is  a 
sin.  Thou  lovest  Ramon." 

Then  Dolores  rose  to  her  full  height  and 
her  blue  eyes  flamed  like  ice.  "  Sebastian, 
the  Liberador,  him  I  love,  in  this  life  and  the 
next ;  God  knows  it,  and  Ramon  knows  it, 


LOS   CARAQUEROS  185 

and  now  may  you,  and  soon,  please  God, 
shall  he!" 

All  forewarned  that  he  was,  the  priest 
started  at  her  vehemence.  Fool  that  he  had 
been ! 

"  He  has  murdered  his  nephew — and  thou 
art  the  cause." 

The  Countess  was  silent.  All  Catholic 
that  she  was,  she  had  resolved  to  appeal  from 
his  judgment  to  God's. 

"  Thou  wilt  not  obey  ?  "  said  the  priest. 

Her  lips  half  formed  the  word  no. 

"  Then  on  thee  and  on  him,  on  thy  house 
I  pronounce  the  curse  of  God.  Thy  family 
shall  have  cause  to  remember  this  day,  this 
Holy  Thursday,  until  it  and  both  thy  names 
shall  have  vanished  from  the  earth." 

Scarcely  had  the  Archbishop  left  the  house 
when  del  Torre  came.  She  saw  that  he  had 
not  been  to  church.  But  she  was  married  to 
him  without  another  word.  "  If  he  has  not 
my  note,"  she  thought,  "he  shall  have  it 
soon." 

But  before  that  night  Jacinta,  with  the 
note  in  her  hand,  was  buried  with  ten  thou 
sand  others  behind  the  closed  cathedral 
doors. 


XII. 

ON  this  Thursday,  March  26,  1812,  while 
the  services  of  the  Hours  of  Agony  were 
being  celebrated  in  the  great  cathedral,  in  the 
presence  of  ten  thousand  people,  the  moun 
tains  trembled  and  the  earth  opened.  The 
multitude  pressed  for  the  doors,  but  they 
opened  inward,  and  the  thronging  masses 
pressed  them  fast.  At  the  second  shock  the 
walls  opened  and  the  roof  fell  in.  The  Arch 
bishop  and  many  priests  were  buried  at  the 
altar.  Thirty  thousand  people  are  said  to 
have  perished.  Many  were  swallowed  in  the 
chasm  that  opened  on  the  mountain-side, 
like  rents  in  a  bulging  sail  bursted  in  a  gale. 
No  stone  houses  in  Caracas  more  than  one- 
story  high  was  standing  on  that  night — ex 
cept  the  old  Spanish  castle  where,  in  the 
tower-room,  Dolores  sat  watching  for  her 
husband. 

Through  all  that  night  del  Torre  worked 


LOS  CARAQUEROS  187 

amid  the  ruins.  At  dawn  lie  was  brought 
home  insensible,  fainting  from  his  labors, 
bleeding  at  his  opened  wounds.  Dolores 
met  him  at  the  door,  and  led  the  bearers  to 
the  room  that  should  have  been  their  bridal- 
room.  There  he  was  laid,  and  lay  delirious 
many  weeks  with  fever.  Dolores  never  left 
his  side. 

The  Archbishop  was  known  to  have  been 
killed.  Jacinta,  the  bride  knew,  must  have 
perished  too.  The  priest  that  had  married 
them  stayed  with  her ;  but  Dolores,  though 
brave  enough  to  sin,  was  not  false  to  her 
faith.  The  over-wrought  heart  of  the  poor 
girl  and  great  noblewoman  connected  all 
that  had  happened  with  what  she  deemed 
her  sins — firstly,  that  she  had  caused  her 
cousin's  death,  her  husband's  crime,  but 
chiefly  that  she  had  braved  the  Church,  and 
the  curse  its  head,  now  dead,  had  launched 
upon  her  and  upon  Caracas.  That  their 
house  alone  was  standing  seemed  only  to 
mark  them  guilty. 

Dolores  was  a  noble  heart,  and  did  not 
falter  in  her  course.  She  had  followed  love, 
she  had  married  him  she  loved ;  his  wife  she 
was,  his  wife  she  would  remain.  But  she 


188  LOS  CAKAQUEROS 

sought  no  soothing  palliation  from  the 
friendly  priest.  She  went  to  no  confession ; 
in  all  her  life  she  never  would  confess  herself, 
seek  absolution  again.  Excommunicated  she 
would  live,  that  the  curse  might  rest  on  her 
and  not  on  him. 

But  ah,  how  ardently  she  watched  for  Se 
bastian's  consciousness  to  come !  for  his 
eyes  to  rest  on  hers  again  !  She  felt  sure  the 
coldness  in  them  now  was  gone.  Delirious, 
he  raved  of  her  and  of  his  love ;  he  that 
never  called  her  but  by  titles  in  his  life,  now 
cried  Dolores,  Dolores,  and  she  held  his  hand 
and  waited. 

She  bade  the  doctors  tell  her  when  his  re 
covery  was  likely  to  come.  And  then,  when 
one  evening  his  hands  moved,  and  he  closed 
his  eyes  and  slept,  she  sat  there  trembling, 
not  daring  to  be  beside  him,  but  her  face 
turned  away.  That  yearning  cry — Dolores, 
Dolores,  had  been  stilled  for  hours  ;  but  the 
night  passed  and  still  he  was  asleep.  Then, 
when  it  was  broad  sunlight,  she  heard  a 
sudden  movement  by  the  nurse,  and  the 
priest  began  to  pray  in  Latin,  and  her  heart 
stood  still.  He  sat  up  ;  she  retreated  in  the 
shadow,  toward  the  door.  His  voice  spoke  ; 


LOS  CARAQUEN08  189 

but  oh !  how  low,  how  weak — not  as  it  had 
been  in  his  dreaming ;  alas  !  this  was  now 
his  right  mind.  He  saw  not  her  ;  his  eyes 
looked  sanely  out  the  window,  through  the 
crowded  city.  "  It  was  a  sin  to  marry  her," 
he  said. 

She  was  carried  fainting  to  her  room  with 
in  the  tower,  and  there  again  she  waited. 
"  Has  he  asked  for  me  ?  "  she  ventured  to 
ask,  at  night. 

He  had  asked  for  my  lady,  and  they  told 
him  she  was  ill.  And  the  next  day  again ; 
and  they  had  told  him  she  was  in  her  suite 
about  the  tower.  She  dared  not  seek  him 
now.  And  flowers  came  to  her  from  him, 
but  no  further  speech.  Thrice  he  sent  his 
homage  to  her.  He  could  not  walk  yet,  but 
he  sent  his  homage  to  her.  She  asked  to 
know  when  he  could  walk ;  and  they  told 
her  they  would  let  her  know.  So,  one  after 
noon,  they  told  her  he  might  walk  the  next 
day ;  and  all  that  night  she  passed  in  prayer. 

The  next  day  she  waited  for  his  step  upon 
the  stone  floor.  It  came  not ;  to  her  tears 
arid  prayers,  it  came  not.  Jacinta's  dead 
hand  still  held  close  the  note.  She  prayed— 
was  it  wrong  to  pray  when  so  unshrived  ? — 


190  LOS  CARAQUE30S 

to  Maria  Vergen  de  las  Mercedes,  but  still  it 
came  not.  Her  haughty  Spanish  breeding 
forbade  her  showing  sorrow  to  her  servants, 
and  they  were  cold  and  deferential  to  her. 
Jacinta  ?  She  was  dead— Dolores  knew,  but 
thought  that  she  had  given  him  her  letter. 
She  had  sinned,  yes,  but  he  was  her  husband. 
The  next  day  she  asked  the  servant.  The 
Senor  General  was  gone.  Gone?  without 
seeing  her  even  ?  He  had  had  to  go  to  the 
wars;  he  had  not  ventured  to  disturb  my 
lady  ;  he  left  a  letter.  A  letter  ?  she  tore  it 
open,  read  it.  It  sent  his  respectful  worship 
to  "  the  Marquesa  ;  "  it  apologized  for  his  ill 
ness  ;  it  prayed  forgiveness  from  her  for  hav 
ing  married  her ;  it  was  done  to  save  her 
name.  It  said  no  word  of  love  ;  and  Sebas 
tian  Buy  del  Torre  was  a  gentleman :  his 
love  appeared  not  in  his  letter.  If  she  loved 
him  not,  he  would  not  wound  her  by  show 
ing  his.  It  said  no  word  of  guilt.  He  would 
neither  wound  her  by  requiring  love  nor  by 
suggesting  blame  ;  but  to  Dolores's  morbid 
fancy  it  had  a  sense  of  blame.  It  closed  by 
speaking  of  his  duty  at  the  wars ;  of  his 
country's  freedom  ;  perhaps,  a  hint  of  hers. 
Dolores  clasped  the  white  paper  to  her 


LOS  CARAQUEXOS 

breast,  and,  to  immortal  eyes  its  color  was 
of  blood.  She  read  it  once  again  ;  and  del 
Torre,  had  he  been  there,  could  have  seen 
her  heart  die  in  her  eyes. 


XIII. 

WE  must  remember  that  Maria  Josepha 
Dolores,  Condesa  del  Torre  y  Luna, 
was  a  lonely  young  girl,  educated  but  from 
books,  devoutedly  believing  in  a  faith  we  like 
to  think  superstitious.  Remember,  please, 
also,  that  she  loved,  and  braved  her  Church 
for  love,  arid  had  not,  so  she  thought,  won  his. 
She  deemed  her  soul  was  damned  ;  she  knew 
her  heart  was  broken.  Not  that  there  were 
no  days  when  she  did  dare  hope;  no  days 
in  which  she  tried  to  frame  a  theory  by 
which  it  still  might  seem  he  cared  for  her ; 
but  she  believed  he  was  borne  down  by  their 
great  guilt.  And  she  resolved  his  soul,  at 
least,  would  not  be  lost  for  hers.  "  My  lady 
Marquesa  would  have  her  apartments  in  all 
the  house,"  the  letter  said.  "  My  lady  had 
but  to  command.  A  small  room  in  the  tower 
was  enough  for  him — he  could  but  rarely  be 
home  from  the  wars.  He  trusted,  if  his  pres- 


LOS  CARAQUESOS  193 

ence  was  painful,  she  would  not  see  him," 
etc.,  etc.  And,  after  many  months,  when  the 
General  came  back — his  wife  met  him  not. 
The  rooms  of  state  were  carefully  prepared 
for  him,  and  all  his  suite  ;  flowers,  banquets 
were  ready  ;  all  his  retinue  and  hers,  in  their 
joint  blazonry,  were  in  attendance.  Only, 
strangely  enough,  just  that  little  tower-room 
was  the  one  my  lady  Marchioness  preferred. 
Would  he  kindly  yield  it  to  her  ? 

Of  course,  and  the  General  sent  her  a  rope 
of  pearls.  They  almost  broke  her  resolution  ; 
but  she  met  him  not.  The  General  only 
sighed  ;  this  Avas  all  as  he  had  known.  The 
evil  nephew,  done  to  death  by  his  own  hand, 
still  had  her  heart.  He  sighed  and  his  hair 
grew  whiter.  One  rending  memory  came  over 
him,  of  the  last  time  he  had  seen  her  eyes. 

He  could  not  know,  as  he  rode  homeward 
up  the  street,  after  his  first  state  visits, 
straining  his  eyes  up  to  that  tower-window 
frowning  so  blankly,  how  late  her  own  had 
left  it — those  eyes  of  purple-gray  that  every 
beggar  in  Caracas  soon  knew  well,  save  only 
he.  Before  the  next  return  his  glory  blazed 
abroad,  and  Bolivar  came  back  with  him. 
Bolivar,  the  Liberator.  All  thoughtful  prep- 
13 


194  LOS  CARAQUEKOS 

aration,  all  courtly  care,  all  a  Spanish  gran 
dee's  splendor  was  spread  forth  to  receive 
him  in  the  Casa  Rey ;  but  the  chatelaine  was 
never  seen.  It  was  not  necessary  to  explain 
her  absence  ;  such  things  get  quickly  known ; 
it  was,  of  course,  thought  she  had  loved  the 
cousin.  And  the  strange  Old-world  Gothic 
pride  made  her  bearing,  the  honor  of  the 
house,  del  Torre's  silence,  only  too  easily 
intelligible  to  them.  So  the  Marquis  del 
Torre  never  saw  his  bride  on  his  returning 
home. 

But,  had  he  known  it,  he  never  opened  a 
door  that  she  had  not  vanished  through 
it.  He  never  touched  a  flower  she  had  not 
placed  for  him.  He  never  looked  in  a  mir 
ror  her  gray  eyes  had  not  just  left.  He 
never  touched  a  wine-glass  to  his  lips  that 
her  lips  had  not  kissed  it.  The  very  missal 
that  he  read  from  had  been  warmed  within 
her  bosom. 

O,  ghosts,  and  mediums,  and  vulgar  spirits 
of  air !  and  stupid  tables,  mirrors  that  are 
flattered  with  tales  of  second  sight !  Why 
did  you  not  hold  a  look  of  hers  one  moment 
longer  ?  why  did  not  the  roses  keep  a  second 
longer  her  lips'  breath  for  him  ?  Poor  fa- 


LOS  CARAQUEffOS  195 

bles  of  visions  in  the  air,  that  could  not  draw 
the  image  of  her  eyes  to  his  as  he  rode  up 
the  street  scarce  a  hundred  mortal  bodies' 
breadths  away!  But  thoy  never  did;  he 
never  saw  her,  she  saw  him  only  as  he  rode 
away  upon  his  horse  ;  and  so  for  many — 
nay,  not  many  (such  poor  slight  power  has 
heaven) — not  for  many,  years.  And  as  his 
horse  bore  him  away,  she  came  to  the  tower- 
window  and  watched  him  go — and  there  she 
sat  weeks,  months,  until  the  pennons  flashed 
or  the  trumpet's  note  announced  to  her,  wait 
ing,  that  he  was  come  again.  For  he  always 
came  in  such  guise,  announced  with  cere 
mony.  And  he  did  not  dream  her  eyes  had 
been  at  the  tower- window  ever  since.  For 
their  eyes  never  met. 

But  the  people  knew,  and  so  they  called 
her  "  Our  Lady  of  the  Tower."  And  Nuestra 
Dona  del  Torre  is  she  called  there  still.  And 
thus  they  lived  there  alone  within  that  great 
house,  each  for  pity  of  the  other  in  courage, 
each  for  awe  of  love  in  silence  ;  each  so  lov 
ing,  so  brave,  so  silent,  that  the  other  never 
knew. 


XIV. 

"j\JUESTKA  DONA.  DEL  TOEEE"— 
1  N  by  that  title,  I  fancy,  she  is  known  in 
heaven.  For  in  that  city  all  the  good  that 
was  worked  was  hers ;  after  the  earthquake, 
then  through  siege  and  civil  war,  her  heart 
directed  her  handmaidens,  ladies  loving  her 
did  her  soft  work.  Her  own  life  was  but  a 
gentle  message.  For  she  never  but  for  the 
convent  left  her  tower-room.  Thither,  how 
ever,  poor  old  men,  children,  troubled  girls, 
would  come  to  see  her. 

All  this  time  Bolivar  was  battling  with  the 
might  of  Spain,  and  del  Torre  (del  Torre  y 
Luna  now  he  always  called  himself,  liking,  at 
least,  to  link  his  name  with  hers ;  but  she 
had  dropped  her  own  name  and  called  her 
self  del  Torre  alone  —  Maria  Dolores  del 
Torre)  was  Bolivar's  captain.  Years  the  war 
lasted.  Once  our  General  was  captured  in 
the  city ;  he  came  to  Caracas  at  a  time  of 


LOS  CARAQUEftOS  197 

war,  when  it  was  legal  for  the  Governor  to 
capture  him  ;  he  had  heard  some  rumor  that 
his  wife  was  ill.  He  would  have  been  shot 
but  that  he  escaped  from  gaol,  and  this  so 
easily  that  the  prison  doors  seemed  to  turn  of 
themselves.  No  youth,  or  woman,  or  child 
in  all  Caracas  but  would  have  turned  a  traitor 
for  our  lady. 

Del  Torre's  face  looked  old — Dolores  knew 
it  not.  She  never  saw  him — except,  perhaps, 
a  distant  figure  on  a  horse.  When  he  was 
out,  she  roamed  the  house ;  when  he  came 
back  she  shut  herself  within  her  apartments. 
He  never  returned,  from  the  shortest  ab 
sences,  a  walk  or  a  mass,  without  making 
formal  announcement.  He  wondered  only  at 
the  flowers  ;  the  perfections  of  his  banquets, 
the  splendor  of  his  household,  were  for  his 
guest  and  as  it  should  be.  At  first  del  Torre 
had  hoped  to  see  at  least  a  handkerchief  fly 
from  her  window,  a  greeting  or  a  wave  of  the 
hand,  on  his  return.  But  it  was  always 
black  and  blank  when  he  saw  it.  At  first, 
this  cost  him  tears  :  a  greeting  seemed  so  lit 
tle — only  courtesy !  But  afterward  he  only 
sighed ;  no  man  should  repine  that  events  ful 
fil  his  expectations  rather  than  his  hopes. 


198  LOS   CARAQUES08 

Their  money  grew  apace.  With  part  of 
hers  Dolores  built  a  church  at  Los  Teques,  a 
property  that  had  been  her  mother's,  not  far 
from  the  city.  Half  her  time  she  spent 
there ;  and  it  stands  there  still,  and  is  called 
after  the  Yergen  de  las  Mercedes — Our  Lady 
of  Pity — to  whom  alone  Dolores  dared  to 
pray.  But  the  Church  took  her  treasure  and 
it  kept  her  secret.  Sometimes,  in  God's 
providence,  even  pity  is  withheld. 

One's  heart  beats  quick  to  think  what 
might  have  happened  had  she  ventured  to 
confession — the  priest  who  married  them  still 
was  with  her,  in  the  household,  an  honest 
priest,  who  loved  del  Torre,  too.  But  Rome, 
which  knows  how  to  be  gentle  as  a  mother, 
can  also  be  as  cruel  as  the  grave.  So  Dolores 
went  on  in  building  churches,  and  Don  Se 
bastian  offered  his  brave  heart  wherever  he 
saw  a  bullet  fly  for  liberty.  The  best  work 
of  the  world  is  done  by  broken  hearts. 

One  time  that  he  came  home,  he  found  a 
medallion  by  his  plate.  It  was  set  with 
pearls,  in  tricolor  enamel.  He  opened  it,  and 
it  was  a  miniature  of  her.  Then  once  a  rush 
of  human  blood  bore  all  his  barriers  of  honor, 
duty,  resolves  of  conduct,  far  away.  He 


LOS  CARAQUE80S  199 

hastened  through  the  house  to  the  tower, 
where  she  lived.  He  hastened — crying  Do 
lores,  Dolores,  as  he  had  cried  in  his  delir 
ium.  Her  maid  opened — not  Jacinta,  but  Ja- 
cinta's  daughter,  now  a  woman.  My  Lady 
Marquesa  had  gone  to  the  convent  at  Los 
Teques  for  some  weeks'  prayer. 


XV. 

AFTEK  this,  del  Torre's  body  grew 
broken,  with  his  heart. 

It  was  the  last  campaign  of  liberation. 
The  final  battle  was  fought  not  far  from  Los 
Teques,  where  the  convent  was ;  and  the 
wall  of  the  church  of  the  Yergen  de  las  Mer 
cedes  was  scarred  with  balls.  The  fight  was 
over,  the  country  was  free.  And  the  General 
at  last  was  killed. 

Bolivar  himself  went  with  del  Torre's  body 
to  Caracas  ;  our  General's  corps  d'armee  were 
his  pall-bearers.  The  news,  of  course,  had 
been  sent  to  the  city;  the  Governor  had 
fled ;  the  General's  tri-color  now,  the  red- 
white-green  of  Colombia,  was  floating  over 
the  Capitol.  All  the  town  was  gay  with 
banners,  merry  with  song.  It  had  forgotten 
the  earthquake,  and  was  now  rebuilt,  though 
lower  down.  The  Casa  Key  now  stood  at  the 


LOS   CARAQUE80S  201 

head  of  the  principal  street,  which  sloped 
from  it  down  the  mountain  side.  And  as  the 
regiment  escorting  his  body  debouched  into 
this  avenue  and  turned  upward  (as  its  dead 
leader  had  so  often  clone  before),  and  the 
town  came  in  view,  there  was  a  great  hush 
upon  the  people.  For  lo  !  Now,  at  last,  the 
window  of  the  tower  was  wide  open  and  the 
house  bore  all  no  black,  but  was  festooned 
with  laughing  tri-color.  And  the  window  of 
the  tower  was  open,  and  there  within  stood 
our  Lady  Dolores,  in  her  white  wedding 
laces,  waving  her  hand. 

She  met  them  at  the  great  door.  Bolivar, 
and  the  officers  who  had  been  with  our  Gen 
eral,  started.  For,  as  she  stood  there  in  her 
slender  satin  gown,  her  eyes  upon  them,  she 
was  like  a  young  girl.  And  her  girlish 
waist  was  bound  about  with  pearls. 

The  fact  was,  she  was  seven-and-twenty. 
They  placed  his  bier  first  in  the  great  room ; 
but  she  would  have  it  in  hers,  so  in  the  tower- 
room  they  placed  it,  with  burning  candles 
standing  sentry  now  where  she  had  stood ; 
and  by  its  side  were  lilies — the  flower  of  the 
Holy  Ghost — and  then  they  left  her.  Then 
first,  since  her  wedding-day,  she  looked 


202  LOS  CARAQUEROS 

upon  him,  face  to  face,  his  eyes  now  dead  to 
see.  Their  eyes  so  met.  And  outside,  from 
the  city  now  again  joyous,  came  the  carillon 
of  freedom  bells. 


XVI. 

'""PHIS  is  the  life  story  of  Don  Sebastian 
1  Ruy  Jose  Maria,  Marques  del  Torre  y 
Luna ;  and  of  Maria  Josepha  Dolores  del 
Torre,  Condesa  de  Luna,  his  wife  ;  and  of 
the  old  stone  castle  that  alone  the  earth 
quake  left  standing  in  the  pleasant  city  of 
Caracas. 

The  Holy  Catholic  Church  had  alone  their 
secret;  and  she  kept  it;  and  now  she  has, 
laid  up  on  earth,  their  treasure  too.  No 
longer  such  grim  motives  vex  their  country  ; 
if  she  battles  with  herself,  it  is  for  money  or 
for  acres  of  wide  coffee  land.  Such  cruel  tales 
cannot  be  found  there  now.  But,  perhaps, 
withal,  some  touch  of  noble  life  is  vanished, 
with  that  flag  of  blood  and  gold.  Good  can 
not  grow  bravely  without  evil  in  this  world. 

You  may  see  the  Casa  Key  still  standing 
in  the  sombre  street,  and  the  empty  tower 
window  there.  The  Marquesa  del  Torre  y 


204  LOS  CARAQUESOS 

Luna  died,  quite  old,  more  than  a  score  of 
years  ago.  Her  blue  eyes  are  no  longer 
there.  Perhaps  they  are  in  heaven,  and  now 
at  last,  "know  not  their  love  from  God." 
The  people  of  Caracas  think  so.  Her  eyes 

"  Even  than  on  this  earth  tenderer — 
While  hopes  and  aims  long  lost  with  her, 
Stand  round  her  image  side  by  side, 
Like  tombs  of  pilgrims  that  have  died 
About  the  Holy  Sepulchre." 


Stimson,  F. 

J. 

S859 

•i  1-1 

In  the  th 

ree  zones 

in 

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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


